Blood in the Water

The Verdict

I was staring into space, thinking about how I was going to confront this situation. I had my nice clothes on, slacks and a white sweater. I was the eye witness testifying for Lydia's trial. I was the only one who saw him in the act. I saw him on top of her limp body. He did rape her, it wasn't a question. I watched him. He would not be getting away with this. The prom was just a week ago. School is almost out. I will be in such a good place after this, we have to get him. He needs life in jail for being such a pitiful human being.

"You ready sweetheart? It's time to go," Connor said.
"I'm as ready as I'll ever be. Let's go."

It was a thirty-minute drive to the courtroom. I was dreading it. Connor and I drove separately from the group because there wasn't enough room. My mom wasn't able to attend, surprise surprise. The Monroe's were all going, Jackson, and Drew of course. The other moms were trying to make it because this was such an important occasion. Lydia needed justice. The drive went by slowly as I practiced my testimony, it had to be perfect.

We arrived at a parking lot in front of a large white building, its entrance framed by towering pillars. I took a deep breath; we were twenty minutes early. I had already rehearsed my testimony, with the lawyers guiding me through it, focusing on Lydia. Since I had witnessed the incident, my testimony was crucial, but Lucas would still provide valuable support. I noticed the rest of the group approaching, and Lydia appeared to be in a daze, her body moving on autopilot. We joined them.

Everyone was silent for the most part.

"Everything is going to be okay," Natalie said.

No one responded. I didn't want to get Lydia's hopes up that this would go our way. The likelihood of the rapist getting a real sentence is small. In the United States, the average sentence for rapists is 5-25 years. Drug traffickers also fit within that time frame. How is a man raping and attacking a woman the same as a person selling drugs? It's not. It's just not fair. Lydia went through all of that and he's going to get the same prison sentence as someone selling cocaine. The justice system has failed us.

We entered the courthouse, where rows of people were seated. We took seats in the first and second rows, while the remaining seats were designated for spectators. Brian's legal team sat on the right side of the room. and we were on the left. Our lawyers stood up as we walked in. We still had fifteen minutes, so Lucas and I dropped off our stuff and walked to the bathroom areas to go over our testimonies.

"It's going to be alright," I said.
"I hope," he replied.
"The court can't tell us we're lying if we had like 10 witnesses and a rape kit that proved the attack," I tried to convince him.
"I guess. Okay, I'll read mine first," he said.

His arm was lifted with the clean paper. As he examined it, his sweatshirt slipped up his wrist, and something caught my attention. I saw red scratches everywhere. They were deep and raw. They were fresh. I felt sick. He quickly pulled the sweatshirt back over his wrist, covering the jagged cuts.

"Oh Lucas," I said.

He looked like he was about to cry. I could see the guilt through his innocent face.

"Let's go into the bathroom," I offered.
He nodded.

It was a family restroom, so we both went inside. I shut and locked the door, then turned to look at him, ready to help him the best I could.

"Talk to me," I said in a serious tone.
"I just can't," he said, defeated.
"What's going on buddy?" I asked.
"Too much. My mind won't be quiet. I was just so stressed. I've only done it a few times, no one was supposed to know," he cried.
"It's okay. I won't tell anyone. Everyone has different coping mechanisms. You have had so much going on in your life. It's okay. I understand. Everything is going to be okay. I'm going to help you. We just have to get through today. You can tell me anything, you know that?"