♥Reira♥Layla♥Raera♥

“Objection–”

I stared at the red oak wood; it seemed to stare back at me. The buzzing in my surrounding was never ending, for the past hour it had been making me sick and more nauseous with every passing second. I inhaled the stale air, and tried to feel emotional for something; anything.

“Your honour, this man is –”

I wondered how much I had missed out in life, and sometimes I would dream that maybe one day I could experience a fraction of what I’ve missed. I glanced around me; there were four familiar faces. There was Leslie, the tall crown representative who had a stone carving for a face. She never once winced when blood hurling pictures are revealed. I don’t like her.

“Now, would the defence –”

Justine’s thin fingers struggled against the metal keys, her slight build made the typewriter seem as though it would leap off the desk and crush her. No one ever noticed or cared about her, she wasn’t important out of all the important people in this room. A companion told me last month that Justine’s husband betrayed her and that was why she left him; he also told me that her ex-husband’s lover was lovely. But he is wrong. I always watch Justine and I know she’s the loveliest. She is the only one that seems to care when the death sentence is announced, and she is the only person I’ve cared about. I like her.

“This man –”

I would listen for a bit more, but my mind wouldn’t obey my command. It was off wondering what would happen if this was the last time I would see Justine.

“– Thank you”

A break was called. For fifteen minutes I’d have all attention on me. Everyone here and outside in the media vans would think of, talk about, and decide my fate. Several people would leave to visit the lavatory, but most people would frown in frustration and think of horrible ways to punish me. I tried to see it as humour to hear the occasional few who loudly voice their version of my ‘deserved’ death to their companions. I sighed; I do not like this type of popularity.

“Look at him, how disgusting –”

I stepped over the boundary and was out of the wooden box containing me; the cool silver metal wrapped itself around my wrists before I walked towards the neighbouring room. I waited for Brandon to open the door and quietly entered my favourite place. Even though there was no logical reason to like this room, I cherished the atmosphere it had. Out of all the rooms here, it seems to be the most peaceful of all. I like it here.

“Thank you.” I talked to Brandon who nodded in reply. He never seem to talk, he was just always silently by my side. At times, I’d joke with my inner self that Brandon was really my pet, and that I was being chained and held captive to humour him. However, I’d quickly remember that in reality, I was more likely to be classified as his pet; a pet that he guarded but didn’t want. I don’t like being unwanted.

I walked in and saw the exact table I remember from twelve years ago, and the same chair was still there for me to sit on. Everything was the same besides the bottle of water and the single piece of bread provided for me. I wasn’t sure if this stretched the rules, or if the regulations have changed. All I knew was that when I was sixteen, food was not allowed in court or in this room. I like this change.

“Court now in session, would–”

My fifteen minutes were gone before I finished my bread, I found myself back in my box in front of the audience full of people who loathed me. I felt nauseous again but I didn't say anything, no one here really cared about how I felt anyways. I coughed and looked directly before me, there I saw the last person whom I knew, Carol. He sat higher up and was above the rest; he was the god of this room. His words decide who shall be blessed with innocence, and who shall be condemned to living hell or death. He was the worshipper of human rights, he was honourable, and he was the judge. Yet he was wrong then, as he is wrong now, and I still hate him.

“Accused, do you plead guilty or –”

I had a chance when there was a jury, but Carol took them away.

I had a chance when I was sixteen, but now I’m twenty eight.

I had a chance when I cared to live, but I’ll be dead anyways.

“Guilty.” I replied.

I then snorted in laughter. My lungs heaved in and out as I choked out my wheezy howls of glee. In my heart, I was pleading guilty for the crime I committed when I was sixteen, but everyone thinks I’ve pled guilty to the crime for which I know I’m innocent of – the crime of murdering Carol’s mistress. Of course, no one even knew Carol had a mistress. Many, unlike me, believe that he is faithful and have never turned away from his wife, God, or righteousness.

“Carol, your honour, I’ve plead guilty now.” I stood up and raised my hands high into the air, “Twelve years ago I killed Stephanie Ross and I didn’t pay with my life, and now instead of you it’s me who’s here, to be punished for Rosalie’s murder. I guess perhaps justice has been served since one killer is prosecuted.”

“Order!” Carol smacked his little hammer and screeched in full volume, “Order in the courtroom.”

I laughed as Brandon held me down, his chubby fingers pinning me down to my seat as two other guards rushed forward to help him. A handful of tears gathered in my eyes, several ounces of that spilt down my face. I finally knew the meaning of crying a river.

I struggled against the guards, still laughing. Then, I finally understood that there really was something wrong with me. I finally felt that perhaps the doctors have always been right and that I am out of my mind. I feared for my sanity, but in the same instant I felt the fear come, it left. After all, why would an insane person wish for sanity at the moment prior to death?

I decided to have fun. If I was going to die at the age of twenty eight, I might as well experience the teenager rebellion years that I missed until the moment I die.

Carol placed me in jail where he left me to rot for ten years. When I was finally released at the age of twenty six, fate brought me to fall in love with Justine, his beautiful wife. My love for Justine led to my forgiveness of Carol, but he fell in love with Rosalie and broke my angel’s heart.

For my crime, he punished me. So for his crime, I wanted to kill him. It was just my bad luck that Justine’s love for him was so strong. I couldn’t hurt Justine, so I took Rosalie instead. I told Rosalie the chocolates were from Carol, and she took her own life with them. It was never my fault.

“Justine, I punished her for you, live on happy and well. If anyone hurts you again, I’ll kill them as a ghost. I’ll be your guardian.”

I laughed harder until my throat ached, and suddenly I collapsed to the ground. The right side of my cheek seemed to tear apart and burn as I slid face first across the wooden ground. Then I saw the blood on my hands, I had taken a blade from the guard, and sliced Brandon’s forearm. I laughed. The blood was so much more vibrant than the red of the oak wood furnace.

The laughter made my throat dry, but I still cackled through the flaming sensation building up in my chest. I looked around, everyone was terrified of me, and no one dared to approach. I was ready and eager to see every fearful face but my heart wasn't ready to see Justine. When my eyes landed on her tear stained face, I wanted to reach for her – I felt for her.

“Justine… I love you.” I screamed. “I always had, and I always will.”

I could see Carol rushing towards her from behind his podium, I willed myself to ignore his presence.

“Justine, I killed her for you. No, no, don't thank me… she deserved to die.” I grinned from ear to ear. “You were the only one generous to me when I was sixteen; you were the only one who didn't treat me like scum when even my family abandoned me. I didn’t know how to thank you, so I wanted to kill the person ruining your life. It was sick gratitude, but gratitude still. I hope you’d understand.”

The entire room was silent as I said my last words; I thanked God for the silent audience he provided for me.

“Justine, please live happily from now on.” I smiled, and made no more stupid gestures to pull away from the prison guards. “Live for me as well.”

A gun was pointed my way, when I realised that it was Carol’s index finger holding the trigger. I raised the blade and pointed it at him. I suppose no one expected me to flip the blade around and stabbed towards my own heart.

“Good bye Justine.” I wasn’t sure if my blade pierced me first, or if his bullet punctured me earlier. Either way, it hurt.

As my vision clouded from blood red then to an inky black, I let myself decay as I thought I felt Justine’s arms surround my corpse.