In the First-Degree
There was a small amount of light coming from the barred window above my head as I finished the last curl in my long black hair, recalling a much simpler and quieter time. Pondering the thought, I hadn't realized how much time had passed during my confinement. I made a mental note that the world was passing me by as time seemed to stand still inside my small prison cell. It had been a horrifically long and tiring six months since my feet had touched clean cut grass or felt the bright sun, accompanied by a small breeze brushing against my caramelized skin. Letting the last perfect curl slip through my shaky fingers, I could feel the gaze of my attorney on me as I mused. She stood calmly on the other side of the rusty iron bars of my dark and clammy cell.
She was a woman of average height accompanied by a slim build, the latter of which I assumed was due to an active and healthy lifestyle. Her sleek auburn hair flowed down to her shoulders, almost like it had a mind of its own; her pale skin glistening softly from underneath it. Her brown eyes were filled with both concern and empathy for my plight as they never once wavered from my gaze. Her experience as an attorney was minimal, being freshly graduated from Harvard Law School. She graduated at the top of her class and immediately landed a job at the SilverGrove attorney's office, where my case file had been hand-picked for her. During her initial intake with me, she expressed her reservations about representing me and beginning her new career with a high-profile case like mine. I knew she was nervous about the outcome, whatever that might be, because even though I knew she was being professional, as I am just another client, I had begun to enjoy her visits during the short two months we've been acquainted.
As she stood there, she continued to watch me carefully. A small part of me wondered if she wanted to know what I was thinking and out of the corner of my eye, I could see her hands visibly shaking from the weight of the bulky white and brown box that included a hefty sheaf of papers that were related to my case.
Breaking the intense silence, she spoke with confidence. "Are you ready for today?" she asked. I turned to her, grabbing my slippers before replying.
"No. Not even close, but I know what I'm up against. I wish everyone would understand and realize why this happened," I said sharply, slipping my shoes on. "I'm not the bad seed the media and tabloid reporters are making me out to be. Nowhere near it."
For the first time since I was arrested, I felt incredibly angry. I knew how much trouble I was going to be in for the mistakes I chose to make, and I knew that what I'd done would never be forgiven or forgotten, but the media only knew one side of the story, and it wasn't mine. What they didn't know was that I was ready and willing to put everything on the line for him. I didn't dare to think about how the consequences of my actions would've impacted my life so harshly. I was broken when he came into my life. I was mourning the death of my parents and he knew that but continued to take advantage of my weaknesses. With that, he was able to get away. The local police department has been trying to track him down. They are inclined to believe that he may have run to either Mexico or the UK, where he originated from. I always thought about him quietly but wouldn't dare let anyone on my legal team know that as it could make me look worse than I already do.
I took one last look in the mirror. I looked weary and tired, like the world had fallen on my shoulders as a strong and unwanted burden. I swore I wasn't going to break today, and I was going to remain calm, cool and collected. I was strong. I always had been, especially under pressure. I would not break today, at the very least, not in front of everyone. I knew my defense was going to be stoic, but in the back of my mind, the fear of innocence and guilt had begun to clash quite a bit. With the little background information, I had in my defense, she appeared to be a strong and confident woman. Something I really needed in my dark days ahead. She was maybe too lenient with me, but I suspected that she saw something in me that she didn't see in others. I had wondered if maybe she saw herself in me somehow. She knew I didn't do any of this by choice, my heart laid with the monster that ruined my life. I ran my fingers along my temple to soothe the beginnings of a headache, and by the second, I was becoming concerned about my mental state getting the better of me before I even stepped forward into the courtroom. Taking a deep breath, I looked into the mirror for another few moments before turning to my attorney and forcing a smile.
"Are you prepared?" I asked.
"No." she laughed nervously in response. "I believe we may have a strong chance to prove beyond a reasonable doubt. At the very least, it'll be a short prison term. With the mental health evaluation that you received before you were booked, we may be able to get some of the evidence against you dismissed. Circumstantial at best," she explained.
I shrugged my shoulders. "Do you really think it could be? Circumstantial, I mean." I began to feel extremely nauseated at this point, praying silently today would go as planned. My attorney gave me a puzzled look before confidently striding through the cell door. She set the bulky box down with her feet, causing a few loose papers to fall out as a result. She lifted her head and sighed in frustration as she calmly picked up the loose papers to put them back in the box. "I know you feel great sorrow for what you did, and I believe you can be helped. You're one of the calmest, youngest and brightest criminals I've had the pleasure of getting to know." She squeezed my hand tightly, giving me a subtle reassurance that everything was going to be just fine. That I was going to be just fine.
"We've got this, Juniper. Everything will work out as they're intended to. Even with the overwhelming evidence against you, you have a chance to tell your side of the story. You have your wits about you, Juniper. Hell, it was your personality and calm demeanor that drew me here to represent you, along with your legal team. That may not be enough, however, to convince a jury of whatever innocence you have, but it's not an impossible fight. Legally, it will be a marathon, but if we remain calm and stick with the story, nothing can go wrong." She smiled down at me as I rested my head on her shoulder, sighing in relief. It was almost like talking to a friend who understood you and now, her soft voice was almost mother-like.
As if her words were a cue, the prison guard came into the opening of the cell and cleared his throat, making his presence known. I looked up and met his eyes with a gulp. He was a plump man with identifiable strong hands. His face was a mask of exhaustion, accompanied by an ungroomed beard that covered his face completely. In his grasp, held a set of shackles for both my hands and feet. Turning to my attorney, tears flowed down my cheeks. I was worried, scared, and felt like a small child again. She looked into my eyes and cleaned up my face before standing up. She smiled and nodded at me whilst patting my hand softly. "I'll see you soon. Clean yourself up." She grabbed her box and walked out of the room with a guard following her.
"Time to go, Miss Haven," the guard rumbled with a hint of irritation. I could tell he was not in the mood for games today. I have seen him before, but only a handful of times. He seemed to really hate his job.
"Yes, Sir. Just give me a moment to clean myself up. I cannot walk into court looking like this. I have an image to protect."
He sighed in annoyance. "Hurry up, then. I must have you downstairs in two minutes time," He snapped as he gripped the shackles in his hands.
Standing up from my rugged bed, I went to the mirror. I looked and felt like hell. I knew the next chapter of my life was going to be a long and dragged out one, with all the evidence they had against me. I stood back, tilting my head to the side as I smoothed out the wrinkles in my orange jumpsuit. Rubbing my hand along the right side of my elbow, the finale was there right as where I left it two months earlier. I had a surprise for everyone, and it was not going to be the last. Turning from the mirror, I nodded at the guard to indicate I was ready to go. He came into my cell bent down to shackle my feet and with my hands unoccupied, I placed my them on his face. With a swift movement of my wrists, he fell to the ground like a ragged doll.
"Well, this could be a problem." I shrugged as I searched his cold and limp body for his keys, unlocking the one shackle he left behind. Smiling, I stepped over his body and headed downstairs where everyone's fate was already sealed.