Part of moving back into my parents' house means I rediscovered some of my older writings/musings/casual whatevers while cleaning up my room. I think I'll be posting more of these on here, mainly because they're a bit long and not necessarily the best to post as Facebook notes. They're all fictional, so even if it's written in first person, it's not me speaking or thinking or doing; it's my characters. So, this is the one I like to call "The Trial". It was written sometime in the last 3 years, since I know I wrote it down in Texas.
~--------~
I was in trouble now. Well, there was nothing new about that. I was always in some sort of trouble. Mother was always telling me to keep my temper in check, to mind my own business, to stop pestering people. But she didn't understand that it wasn't my fault. It was never my fault. I never started it.
Granted, I had (and will always have) my own issues to deal with. I'm not like everyone else, and depending on who you are I am either special and different or a menace to society who needs to be eliminated. Some see me as a sinner; others, a saint. But now, I was genuinely in trouble with the wrong people, and no one was going to come to my rescue.
I was on my own. As usual.
-----
The guard came to my cell, sneering down at me. I knew him well; he was a friend of my father's. One of his many friends in the city, but I had never liked him very much. His hand gripped my arm like a wolf's jaws latching onto a deer's throat as he pulled me out of the jail.
"Yer in fer it now, Annabelle." His smug grin sent shivers down my spine. "Not even your parents can get yer out of this."
And that was when I knew I was doomed.
-----
The jury was already seated behind the judge's chair, but he himself hadn't come in yet. That was fine by me. I was shaking, afraid of what was going to happen next.
I saw my mother slip into the crowd forming behind me. Great. I hadn't realized how public my trial was going to be. I wanted to just curl up and die--wasn't my shame enough punishment? But I stood tall in the threat of yet another challenge. The faces around me began to blend together; some were exultant, others stunned, others nonchalant, but they all formed one thing: an angry mob.
"Let's just kill her now, and not wait for the judge!" someone called.
Inside, I was panicking. I knew the judge, knew him better than most due to my connections in the community. Above all, he's a good man. In past cases, if there was evidence in your wrongdoing, whether or not he knew you or not, you found your punishment waiting for you at the end of the day. There was always hope...but no, he was too good of a person. I would never get off the hook.
A hush descended over the crowd as the judge walked into the room. He sat up on his bench and focused his attention on me. So did everyone else. I gulped. His piercing blue eyes looked me over. I had seen that look many times, but it had never really been directed at me or anyone I knew. It was the look he always gave anyone who appeared before him who he knew to be guilty, a mix of harshness, pain, and sadness. He actually didn't like sentencing people; it was just his job. The worst part was the tears in his eyes.
I couldn't help it; I tore my eyes away from his. "Annabelle," he said, more gently than I expected. "Annabelle, look at me."
I looked again. "Father." The tears sprang to my eyes now. I could hardly believed my nerve to call him that. "Please. I know what I've done wrong. I can't possibly repay the people I've wronged or fix what I've done. I can't make things right." My voice shook.
His face hardened. "The charges against you are very serious. You have wronged many people and broken numerous laws. And there is enough evidence of these crimes to suggest that you fully intended to commit these crimes."
"I know," I murmured, more to myself than to him.
"As a father, I am hurt that you paid no attention to the warnings that your mother and I gave you. As a judge, I have no choice but to sentence you."
The mob waited with baited breath as my heart hammered in my chest. I could feel my blood rushing through every part of my body. I had never felt more alive--or more dead.
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