Jodi Ellis

“You can’t remember?” My lawyer paced in front of me, shaking his head in disbelief. I watched him, my fingers toying with a loose piece of string on my sleeve. It was break for lunch, or so they say. Things got too intense, too stressful. The woman wanted to rip my head off, in a certain way, I guess she did. The images of the deceased girl lingered in my mind. His voice brought me back to reality. “Do you want to go to jail because that’s the path you’re leading yourself down.”

He turned to face me, placing both hands on the table in front of me. An apple sat on it, I turned my attention to the apple instead. “It’s the truth, I can’t lie in court,” I said, trying to make my voice sound louder than it actually was.

“Other people lie in court,” he snapped, hitting the table so forcefully the apple rolled over. This case was important to him, I know. It would make or break his career but I couldn’t lie in court - it was wrong. “Just look at these pictures, do you seriously not remember anything?” He opened a thin file, placing several pictures on the table. A silent scream sounded in my head, telling me not to look. I tried not to. "Look at the damn pictures.”

Hesitantly, I moved my eyes to the pictures. She had been stabbed, a few pictures were zoomed in on the wound. I could feel the sick feeling rise for the second time today. “I don’t remember, I’m sorry,” I whispered, forcing myself not to throw up over the images. “I really wish I did.”