Execution
010
December 20;Court
This was the last trial, and I was scheduled to speak. I had no aliby, no other story, nothing prepared. This past nine months was all I thought about, and I still didn't know what to say but the truth.
I dressed in a black skirt and white blouse I had left from an awards ceremony my sophmore year. It was quite tight, but it looked acceptable. My lawyer led me by the arm to the courthouse, his voice far away.
"Just tell the truth, Margeret. And we'll hope they believe you."
I walked in, and everybody turned to watch me walk down the aisle, as if they were watching a shot gun wedding take place. I walked past Trenton and smiled, but he avoided my gaze. The past two months since the last trial was still on his mind, and his anger was fueled by my grandmother. He believed anything she told him, because as well as the media, the police, and investigators, he needed to make sense of it too. Even if that meant breaking my heart into a million little pieces.
I stepped up the stairs onto the witness stand and looked at the people. There were hundreds here. Some people were sitting on the floor, looking through the bars overhead. The lawyer who had turned Trenton against me stood in front of me now.
I said the oath with my right hand up and took a seat. The lawyer stepped forward. "You have a lot of friends here today, Margeret. A lot of enemies too." I nodded, looking around once more.
"I don't blame them."
He seemed startled by my confession. "What do you mean?"
"I caused a lot of people pain."
"Do you mean you're admitting to these acts?"
I licked my lips and took a deep breath. "It was a series of unfortunate events. But no, I do not admit to everything."
He nodded, and glanced at the jury. Most of them were leaning forward, eager to hear what I had to say. The same was true for the rest of the courtroom, except for Trenton, who had his arms acrossed and was looking angrily down at his shoes.
"What do you admit to?"
"I killed my father with a cake knife, because he was drunk and was raping my mother. I tried to kill myself after this, because nobody would believe me if I told them. This somehow caused a train to fall off the tracks on a rainy day, and caused the death of a handful of people." I stopped and looked at my lawyer. He nodded sadly and motioned for me to go on.
"Then I saw my brother Trenton at the ice cream parlor, and I wanted to take care of him. So I took him into the woods. But he ended up taking care of me because I was sick."
"Yes, we have your hospital bills. You had the pnemonia."
"Yeah. I almost died from it."
"Go on."
"I then realized I couldn't take care of Trenton, let alone myself, so I admitted my defeat and started to head home."
My heart started to race again for fear of the next question I knew he would ask. "And how did he recieve his injuries?"
"I was too weak to go home on foot, so we asked a ma--"
"You asked a man to take you home? You decided to hitchike with a seven year old child?" He was now a few feet from my face. He looked into both my eyes and I stared into his eyes.
"The man was hitting him. So I gave myself up to save Trenton."
The courtroom was silent, even the judge was uncomfortable. The lawyer cleared his throat and began to walk back to his seat. "I need a recess, Your Honor."
This was the last trial, and I was scheduled to speak. I had no aliby, no other story, nothing prepared. This past nine months was all I thought about, and I still didn't know what to say but the truth.
I dressed in a black skirt and white blouse I had left from an awards ceremony my sophmore year. It was quite tight, but it looked acceptable. My lawyer led me by the arm to the courthouse, his voice far away.
"Just tell the truth, Margeret. And we'll hope they believe you."
I walked in, and everybody turned to watch me walk down the aisle, as if they were watching a shot gun wedding take place. I walked past Trenton and smiled, but he avoided my gaze. The past two months since the last trial was still on his mind, and his anger was fueled by my grandmother. He believed anything she told him, because as well as the media, the police, and investigators, he needed to make sense of it too. Even if that meant breaking my heart into a million little pieces.
I stepped up the stairs onto the witness stand and looked at the people. There were hundreds here. Some people were sitting on the floor, looking through the bars overhead. The lawyer who had turned Trenton against me stood in front of me now.
I said the oath with my right hand up and took a seat. The lawyer stepped forward. "You have a lot of friends here today, Margeret. A lot of enemies too." I nodded, looking around once more.
"I don't blame them."
He seemed startled by my confession. "What do you mean?"
"I caused a lot of people pain."
"Do you mean you're admitting to these acts?"
I licked my lips and took a deep breath. "It was a series of unfortunate events. But no, I do not admit to everything."
He nodded, and glanced at the jury. Most of them were leaning forward, eager to hear what I had to say. The same was true for the rest of the courtroom, except for Trenton, who had his arms acrossed and was looking angrily down at his shoes.
"What do you admit to?"
"I killed my father with a cake knife, because he was drunk and was raping my mother. I tried to kill myself after this, because nobody would believe me if I told them. This somehow caused a train to fall off the tracks on a rainy day, and caused the death of a handful of people." I stopped and looked at my lawyer. He nodded sadly and motioned for me to go on.
"Then I saw my brother Trenton at the ice cream parlor, and I wanted to take care of him. So I took him into the woods. But he ended up taking care of me because I was sick."
"Yes, we have your hospital bills. You had the pnemonia."
"Yeah. I almost died from it."
"Go on."
"I then realized I couldn't take care of Trenton, let alone myself, so I admitted my defeat and started to head home."
My heart started to race again for fear of the next question I knew he would ask. "And how did he recieve his injuries?"
"I was too weak to go home on foot, so we asked a ma--"
"You asked a man to take you home? You decided to hitchike with a seven year old child?" He was now a few feet from my face. He looked into both my eyes and I stared into his eyes.
"The man was hitting him. So I gave myself up to save Trenton."
The courtroom was silent, even the judge was uncomfortable. The lawyer cleared his throat and began to walk back to his seat. "I need a recess, Your Honor."