Dylan O'Brien Imagines

Anxiety attack (D.O) Angst- pt.2

⚠warnings:⚠ mentions of blood, murder, detailed description of abuse, prison, abusive father, court.

I don't really know how the whole court or lawyer thing works, but i did google some (almos everything) and i hope it's a little accurate...but yea, hope you guys enjoy😊

⭐requested⭐pt.2

It's been a few weeks since i found out my father is filing for parole. Me and Dylan have contacted the prosecutor that's going up against my father.
She came over to our house and we discussed the case.

If i wanted to make sure that my father stays in prison, i'm gonna have to testify against him. I would have to go up and sit infront of everyone and tell them about all the horrible things he did...but that's not the part i dreaded.

If i go up there, i'm going to see him and i'm going to have look him in his cold dark eyes as while explain everything.

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"Dylan i don't think i can do it. I can't go up there and look him in the eye, not again." I said, my voice shaking as i spoke while pacing around in the kitchen. I had tears in my eyes, my hands were also shaking and my heart and mind were racing.

"Whoa Y/N, baby it's going to be okay. I'll be there with you. You're strong okay, we'll get through this and then you'll never have to worry about him again okay." Dylan said, standing up and walking towards me before pulling me in for a hug.

"I'm scared Dyl." I said as a tear finally escaped and rolled down my cheek.

"I know baby, i know. We'll get through this together okay. I promise."

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The public calls Y/N Y/L/N to the stand Your Honor.

As i stood up and began walking towards the stand it felt like everything was moving in slow motion. My hands were sweaty and my throat was dry, but i just kept walking.

I sat down and my eyes immediately went to Dylan's, he gave me a reassuring smile to try and ease my nerves...it did help a little.

"So Miss Y/L/N, can you please tell everyone why you're here today and please state what your realtion to the defendant is."

I took a deep breath and began speaking.

"Jeffrey Bundy, the defendant is my father. I'm here today to make sure he doesn't get parole."

"Why don't you want the defendant to get parole miss Y/L/N?" The prosecutor asked

"Because i'm terrified of him. He beat me and my mother senseless, he treated us like objects, like punishing bags to take his anger out on. He manipulated us, he lied, he used us, he made me and my mom feel worthless and scared. He made us believe that what he was doing to us was right. That by beating us he was just showing us how much he loved us.
And then one night he started beating my mom...and he didn't stop even after she stopped screaming and crying, he kept beating her untill he grew tired an by then he was already soaked in her blood and she layed there, dead on the kitchen floor.

He- the defendant then stood up, went to his room, took a shower and went to sleep. I on the other hand, walked over to my mother's lifeless body and just sat down next to her, begging her to wake up, begging her to come back and to not leave me. I eventually stood up again and called 911. I told the dispatcher what had happened and i told her everything that has happened for the last twelfe years of my life.