[Justice]
As I walk into the room, all eyes turn to me, and suddenly I'm very aware of the shackles around my ankles and wrists. Dried blood still covers my hands and face, and the dim light almost makes it sparkle. Murmuring fills my ears, and as clear as the audience had shouted it, I heard the word 'murderer' on every person's lips.
Half-way down the thin, corridor-like pathway, I feel a stab of pain on the bridge of my foot. I let out a yelp.
Something wriggled about in my sandaled feet, a ring of ripped rubber shifting below it. I could feel it getting deeper and deeper
I was trying to stop myself from crying. Focusing on the pain seemed the only way.
Halfway down the little ramp, I start shaking. There was only a little way to go before I was in the middle of the room, which was a huge circle, with little seats for the public spiralling upwards, and the biggest, comfiest seat I'd ever seen in my life in the middle. Prince Verity sat there like a black diamond, clad in the kind of worn and ripped clothes only royalty could pull off. You know, the expensive kind.
Behind me lies a trail of blood, now dripping freely from my foot. I would've probably thrown up, if there was anything in my stomach. Instead, I just make weak gagging sounds. We reach the middle, and the guards give me one last shove. I drop to my knees, coughing up something vaguely yellow and sticky.
A voice comes from above me, boredom dripping from it like blood from a knife.
"Justice Harper Swallow, you've been accused of the wilful murder of a government scientist."
It was Prince Verity's voice. I try to lift my head to look at him, but it might well have been made of lead. The audience falls silent.
"Do you plead guilty, or innocent?"
I cough up more yellow sticky stuff. My stomach turns over at the thought of speaking, and nothing about either the guard's, or Prince Verity's look helped. The something in my sandal wiggled about a little in my foot.
My mind turned to Fitz, and from that came a surge of hope. If I said guilty, I might...
Well, it seemed much too much to hope for.
But...
I just might be able to see him again.
It seemed such a selfish thought, but it was a strong one. I could avoid getting killed, too, which at the moment, seemed like nothing more than a small upside.
My mind wandered about a little bit, wondering where he was now, and if he was alive or not. I had absolutely no idea what had happened in this very same courtroom, four years ago. I'd refused to come. I don't think I was ready to see him like I was now, especially then, stripped of everything that made us a person in the eyes of the public. Not quite a victim, just an animal sent to the slaughterhouse.
I bring my mind back to the present. I need to try to focus, no matter how hard that is.
I open my mouth, and at first nothing comes out.
Okay. Try again.
"Guilty," I croak.
"Speak louder, dear,"
Oh, gods. One more time.
For Fitz. Or not, I suppose.
My throat really hurt.
I lift my head. "Guilty,"
There was a collective sigh from the audience. Prince Verity stands up, face neutral. I let my head sag a little, and drop a dusty sigh onto the even dustier ground.
What the hell have I just done?
"Council members, do you have anything to say?" He asks, voice booming about the place. After half a minute or so of silence, he continues. "I sentence you to a lifetime at Bridge Town, where you will be left to do whatever you please, to die or to survive. If you're seen here again, you will be captured and killed by the city guards. Good luck, Justice"
His gaze meets mine for a second, and a look of sympathy flashes on his face, just quick enough to make me question if it was ever there.
He taps his staff on the floor. His glittering, shining staff. It was the kind of thing that had so many precious stones on, it was hard to look at.
The sound reverberated around the space.
The guards picked me up, and threw me forward. I staggered to my feet, and coughed back the nausea. The ceiling was opening up and blinding light came flooding down. A black-clad helicopter came down from the now gaping hole in the ceiling. Handfuls of people were getting up, and filing out. A few of them were sniggering.
It seemed the trial had finished.
The helicopter landed on the ground with a soft thud, sending dust into my eyes.
The sun shone as usual and pink fluffy clouds floated in front of it lazily. Everyday talk drifted over the open roof. And, I suddenly realised, I was never going to hear that talk again. Ever. Not this kind of talk, anyway. Not city talk. Just the whispers of whatever was out there, whatever Bridge Town was.
Hah. I was so young, and naïve.
I was pushed into the helicopter, and strapped into a seat.
I think I must've passed out, because I don't remember a thing after that.
Just blissful black.
...
Until, of course, I opened my eyes. And the world came flooding back.
-----
A/N:
Heyhey! Thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed!
Jeez, I've been kind of nervous about posting this, because its been a wip for SO long! I don't even properly know where its going from here, so wish me luck!!
I'd love any and all constructive criticism, so don't be shy hehe
Love you all (especially you @fandom0op and @EVcat1) and I hope you have a great day <33
(here's a link to the playlist I was listening to while writing, so maybe you dudes can have a listen as well:
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/61cXARaYnAwrmxmDkDYHN4?si=0b229760913547ee)
(1005 words)
YOU ARE READING
One For Sorrow
General Fiction"When you can't run no more, take off and fly. The wind'll take care of you like nobody else will," ----- Bridge Town is a silly name. Especially for the place that it is. There aren't any bridges, and it isn't really a town. It's more of a huddle o...
