Writing Pieces

Chapter Two

I remembered how she was before. 

It surprised me how little I had truly understood her feelings. 

I saw her hold back tears and beam at me, and I thought she was happy. 

I saw her smile every day, no matter what we went through, and thought maybe she was just staying positive. 

Thought that she was hoping for things to get better. 

When she was mad, which I could tell when she was, she clenched her jaw and had a stern look, and just rarely did her volume raise, if she was very angry. 

It only occurred to me now, as I stared at her breaking down, that she was pretending to hold everything together. 

A mixture of blood and tears spattered on the floor in front of her, and I realized I'd been mistaken this whole time. 

She'd presented herself as composed, and was tearing in two, right before my eyes. 

A striking pain in my chest reminded me of her words to me, just earlier. 

She'd never been in a happier place than here, even with everything going on. 

So why would she do this...? 

Maybe she'd been faking everything this whole time, I thought. 

No. 

I looked into her eyes, searching and scanning for some kind of sign, to be able to understand, and I saw it. 

When she begged for me to trust her, that she didn't do this, I had no reason not to. 

She'd always been there for me and everyone else here, even those who were harsh or annoying. 

And in her eyes, I saw pain, fear, and betrayal. 

No, she hadn't done this. 

I refuse to believe it was her. 

But the votes were in... And she was called guilty. 

And she was pulled away and executed, a spotless lamb at the slaughter, paying for someone else's crimes. 

I vowed to myself, that I would find the truth and prove her innocence, even if she wasn't here to help me.