Next Time? There Won't Be No Next Time

The day of the trial was hurrying near. I couldn’t help but think that soon Marshall would have the chance to put someone in jail, to give someone what they finally deserve in life. Although he doesn’t seem too happy about the whole thing. I think he’s scared. I just wish he would talk to me about it. He’s been awful quiet recently…
When Marshall finally gets out of bed I make him a cuppa and we get to talking. He begins telling me how he’s not sure if he wants to go to the trial also how he doesn’t want to go just to put this man in jail.
“This man made your life and your mother’s life hell. He should be locked away for what he did. Marshall please don’t be scared to put him where he needs to be, he deserves this you know he does” as convincing as I try to sound, he’s still on a different page to me.
“I really want him locked away but I jus…” I decided that was enough for me to interrupt and have my say again:
“Then go Marshall, this is for your own sake and if you want him locked away then go with whst you want, not with how he might feel” he shakes his head and begins to think things through. We talk for a bit, explaining how he feels about the whole thing, telling me how he is scared he may lose but there is nobody backing up his ‘stepdad’ just some shitty old lawyer who knows he will lose. In my mind Marshall should be a bit scared, but on the other hand he will finally get what he deserves. Marshall will finally get justice not just for him but for his mother too. Oh shit yeah his Mother! Her funeral is soon, I think it’s the day after we get the results from the trial.

Quicker then we think the day of the trial arrives. Marshall digs out his suits and decides which one he should wear. Me? I put on my old work trousers along with a smart blouse and blazer. Now I’m starting to get scared even though Marshall has calmed down a lot. I think he is a lot more confident now he has thought everything through, now he knows who he is doing this for.
As Marshall leaves the room to wait downstairs for me, I begin to tidy the room just to kill some time. As I tidy the bed I see a little book down Marshall’s side. I read the front “Diary of the One and Only Eminem.” He’s written this as a tag with his second ‘E’ backwards as usual. I have the urge to read it, even though I know it would be wrong. I begin to open the front cover, the first date is the day his mom died. It explains everything about how he felt, about what he said to the pathetic excuse of a human being who was there. It’s different though. He writes in this diary as if he is speaking to his mother. As if he is telling her what he said to him, how he reacted, how he misses her. In the last recent entry, this morning, I read it all through. It’s all about the trial, all about the nasty things he is going to say to the judge, how he is going to shame that man. At the end he writes a little message to his mom, it reads: ‘I promise you I will do my best, to jail that bastard who killed you. I’ll come back a winner with that invisible trophy just for you…Today is for you Mom.” I can see a small stain at the bottom of the page. I run my fingers over it. He was crying when he wrote this, the paper is still a bit damp. I never knew how much he cared for his mom, I always thought he didn’t have enough time to visit her, to spend time with her.

As I check the time Marshall shouts up to me that we are going to be late. I place the book where I found it and slip on my heels. We leave in silence, not saying a word the whole car journey. We get to the court and he finally speaks…
“If I start to talk absolute shit, try and stop me, cough or something, just to tell me I’m going over the top?” I agree and we enter the court house. We check in at reception cautiously looking for the scum, hand cuffed to a police man. The receptionist was talking to both of us but I zoned out, thinking about everything. Within five minutes I come back to my senses and listen to the last few words she says.
“You can go in now, they are just about ready for you.”
We carefully open the doors, hand in hand, dreading what is on the other side. We see everyone is waiting for us so we pick up the pace and take out seats. As we sit down we are summoned to stand again as the judge enters the room. We hold hands again, Marshall’s is all sweaty, with a bit of shake in his grip. The judge takes a seat and we all follow.

After about ten minutes of him telling us all about the case and about how it works, we finally get to hear from Marshall. He begins with how he feels, followed by some evidence. He shows the judge some photos he dug out of his mother being abused. The judge looks shocked and begins asking the abuser questions about those photos. After a while of arguments against both sides, I would say we are in the winning side. We sit anxiously waiting for the judge to tell us all his verdict.
“From what I have heard today, this man would be sent straight to jail, BUT! I do not think I have put enough thought into my decision. I will deliver the information in court as arranged on Tuesday. Please be present as I need paper work signed and forms given in. Thank you all for your time. Court dismissed.” We all get up and walk off as quickly as possible avoiding any further queries.
The journey home is silent also, and we don’t speak much for the rest of the afternoon. I decide to go upstairs to see him writing in his book again. He quickly hides it, but I say nothing about it, he doesn't need any more drama in his life.
“You were brilliant today babe. Your mom will be so proud of you, as am I.”
“I don’t feel good about it, the judge couldn’t make a straight up decision there and then. I knew I could have done better as soon as I heard that but! I wish he could have got the verdict as soon as I finished talking. I know he will have a fine and that’s all he will get away with, because that’s just my luck, I won’t ever get justice for my mom.” I start to calm him down and get his hopes back up, telling him he will get what he deserves. But he still doesn’t believe me. I leave him to think about things as leave him for the rest of the night.