The Educator (dark h.s)

Chapter 21- court

Hello eyeryone, just wanted to let you know we don't usually use juries here buuuuut added it for more tension and importance :)

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If you think going to court for the first time is confusing you're wrong. So wrong. Going to court for the first time's nerve-wrecking.

As a daughter of criminals, you'd expect me to have been to court at least once, right? Wrong.

I had never stepped foot in courtyard before let alone got in, I was actually horrified of that place. It felt like I had been accused, the one who was going to be thrown into prison afterwards, even though it was the other way around. I was the firsthand witness not him.

Him.

How I dreaded seeing him again, I sure as hell didn't await having his piercing emerald eyes on me for a whole hour or whatever sentences take. Hell, I wasn't sure I would even be able to speak out in front of so many people. I prayed to God Harry wouldn't get an absolute discharge- which means that no further action would be taken against him. I didn't want them to leave him roaming the streets with just a freaking criminal record. He deserved more.

I made sure my clothes were neat, since dad said I shouldn't be wearing untidy clothing such as singlets, thongs, ripped jeans etc. Better present myself as a law abiding individual.

I really hoped Harry wasn't under the age of 21 because then he'd be sent into a Young Offenders Institution to help him modify his behaviour and such. Which I'd guess was lighter than prison.

Dad was attending as well which didn't put my anxiety at ease but took it up a notch. I knew his judgmental, cheeky remarks would not subside my fear.

"Gwen! We're gonna be late if you don't get yourself down in two." His dominant voice boomed from down the stairs. I took one last look in the mirror, making sure everything was on point before rushing down the stairs. Didn't want my lift to take off without me.

His icy blue eyes raked over me briefly and my breath hitched in my throat, didn't want his little checkup to go unwell because him telling me I pant like a dog or breath too loudly wouldn't exactly help my agitated state.

I felt myself visibly relax when his lips tugged up in a small smile; letting me know he found my attire decent enough. I followed him outside as he locked the front door, sending the house into darkness. I turned my back to the memories-soaked house and followed my bipolar father to his black car.

I slid into the expensive looking car and buckled in, silence conquering the air between my father and me. I watched as he got behind the wheel and aggressively put his foot on the pedal. I adjusted the seat so I'd feel more comfortable in the short car ride to the court, grabbing the latch underneath the seat and moving it forward and backward until I found the best position to leave it in.

"Stop fucking moving." Dad growled, slamming his hand on the steering wheel. I gulped and went silent.

The window was clouded as I breathed against it. I weakly brought my fingertips to the glass, trying not to get noticed by my so called father. I trailed my fingers on the foggy patch, drawing what was on my mind at the moment.

I drew back as my artwork was now on full display. A shiver ran down my neck to the end of my spine at the unrealistically scary fog.

Two big muscular arms were hazy on the glass, numerous tattoos adorning them in multiple places. The arms were up, free and cruel. Ready to kill whoever gets in their way.

Why for the love of God did I draw Harry free? Without handcuffs? I bit my lip. My mind was deceiving me into madness and I couldn't let it carry on. Harry was going to rot out in prison and I was going to go on with my miserable life no matter how much of a vain he was. That was destiny, end of discussion. The car came to a stop and we both hopped out.