'Till There Was You

Chapter Ten: Scars That Breathe

"You're going to do so well Jos. Just keep breathing, and once it's over we can do whatever you want today. I'll take you to lunch, fuck I'll buy you a puppy if it'll help. I'll be right there with you watching, and we're all here for you okay? I love you Jo you know that right? You're my best friend and I love you to the moon and back."

Michael was trying to comfort me before we entered the courtroom. I was trembling in his arms in the hall outside of the large wooden doors that held my destiny. It's absolutely terrifying, and I was never prepared to see her awake again. I sooner expected to bury her when I was eighteen and could pull the plug. I never expected to see her at all, I never visited her in the hospital. I thought it was done, that I could move on finally. But she's in there, waiting to look at me and see what she left behind.

The only thing she left behind...

"I love you too, so much. Thanks for being here." I sniffled quietly into his shirt that I was soaking with tears.

I pulled away and fussed with his tie, he had really screwed up a standard Windsor knot.

"How do you know how to tie a tie better than me?" He asked once I finished and straightened it out.

"Benny went to a private school with a uniform. Poor kid couldn't figure out how to do it so I taught myself and tied it every morning." I explained to him, feeling the hollow emptiness from the memory. I always complained about getting up extra early to get him ready. I miss it more than anything just singing in the car, making sure his uniform was clean, and that he ate breakfast. I felt something only describable as rage bubble up in my chest. I missed my baby brother like a fucking limb, and she's going to pay for it.

"I'm ready." I suddenly spit the words out, knowing that the rage will keep my tears at bay.

We walked in together, all of us like a pack of wolves descending on our lone prey. I walked Michael to his bench with all our friends and he kissed my cheek, reluctantly letting go of my hand so that Jack could lead me up with him to the stand.

"Please rise, court is now in session the honorable Judge Peterson presiding." The bailiff spoke, and the crowd and jurors all rose from their seats.

The judge addressed the courtroom quickly, before darting his eyes to Jack so that he could begin. He's a great lawyer, his facts are all in check, he provides medical records, and crime scene photos for the jury to observe. They're all horrific, and I find myself blinking back tears through shaky breaths.

My mother and her lawyer were adjacent to us, at the other table. She was in a wheelchair, and scrubs which I could see in my peripheral vision. I've yet to look directly at her, and I don't want to.

Her lawyer was trying to argue criminal insanity to get her sentence lessened. He drones on about how my father cheating was the final straw in a series of marital problems that drove her insane. I knew that was somewhat true, she was extremely depressed the last few years of our lives together. But depression doesn't make you kill your husband and child. It just doesn't.

Jack sat next to me and patted my leg gently, allowing it to rest there when he knew I tensed up. His comforting big brother presence helped, I trusted him because I trust Luke.

I took the stand like I have more than once before and recounted what I saw that morning. I had it down to a script by now, but her new lawyer was persistent. He was slimy and condescending, trying to find holes in my recollection.

"You weren't home that morning. Where were you?"

"I stayed over at my boyfriend's house."

"Is he here today?"