One by One

Chapter 19- Need

I left early this morning with my mom. My fingers were fidgety and the heels of my feet kept lifting up as if I were to sprint. There wasn't much to say about this morning, to some it was a new day. To others it was someone's birthday and maybe, today was someone's funeral. As for me, today was the day I was going to be able to put a wild beast into a cage. My father.

"You ready? Don't be nervous okay? Tell them the truth and nothing but the truth, everything's going to be alright eventually," she said as she looked me eye to eye. We were outside the courtroom and I could sense the typical bad, eerie feeling you get when you know something gut-wrenching which you don't really want to anticipate in.

I didn't tell Devon about today. I knew if I did, I was going to break down if I recalled him being hurt. I just couldn't bring myself to see him so close to my father, the fear of what my father was capable of doing made my blood run cold. Devon who has been staying at my house for the past two nights has been sleeping in my bed after a thousand persuading conversations. My mom agreed on not telling him because she knew just how I'd feel. Leaving a note saying I was going shopping with my mom was the easiest thing to do.

"You hereby take this oath and swear to tell the truth and nothing but the truth?"

"Yes, I do". My hand against the bible shook with fear. I don't know how people are able to do this kind of thing. Take the stand with so many eyes on you.

I watched as my mother took a seat amongst the other people. I watched as my father watched me with menacing eyes. I watched as the panel looked at me with pity. No. I wasn't going to take it. I was going to fight. Fight for all the people he killed mercilessly. Fight for all the people he took loved ones from. Fight for all the people he hurt carelessly.

Fight for the people I loved.

A man with greying sides stood up and buttoned up his coat. He walked to the side swiftly and began speaking. "Ms. Xenia or, as some people call you, Ms. Cara. Tell us by detail what exactly happened. From the start".

And so it began.

---

"We find the defendant, guilty on all charges. Measures of prosecution will be discussed and will be set to this Tuesday. Case closed. Next." Bang the hammer went and it was as if a book had been shut. A window had been closed. That part of my life had been completed. My father didn't look agitated or frightened at all. All he did was stare and smile at my mother and I like a mad man. I shuddered remembering what he did to all the girls. During my testimonial, I broke down once when I was retelling how they were beating Devon up to a pulp. . Then I broke down again when they played all the videos. I watched as two, three people or so ran out each time they played a tape.

Everyone was disgusted, no doubt. My mother and I felt the worst.

A dark-skinned woman in her fifties wearing a grey suit approached us and gave us a reassuring smile. One I thank her for. "You did great Emily. Your father is going to be behind bars for a very long time. He will never see the light of day again, I promise you." She squeezed my hand. She was one of the deciding juries and it felt as if all the load and pain had been lifted. It was gone just like that. My father was gone just like that. It felt light and facile, tender and yet strong. I felt strong.

"Thank you, we really appreciate it." My mother answered when she realized I was lost in my thoughts. I watched as the woman walked away.

---

"Dev, I'm home", I called out as I took my painful heels out. I don't know why women bother with them, they hurt like crazy after a while. "Dev!" I yelled again from downstairs. Still no answer. My mom seemed to be in her own world to notice.

I climbed up the stairs and went into my room. There I found a note, the chills came back. The painful thoughts came rushing in. Breathe, breathe, breathe. I picked it up and saw that it was from Devon. Thank God.

I flipped it open and read it.

I don't know how to begin but the police called me this morning and told me they found my father in a bar. He had an overdose. He's dead, Brady. I brought my hand to my mouth and continued reading.

All I want to say is that you don't have to come to the funeral because why should you when I didn't come to the trial for you? We will talk about it soon, right now I can't get my thoughts straight and I just need to know whether you loved me enough to let me go. You knew I wanted to be there for you when before I couldn't. I promised and I broke it. I'm just not good for you, Brady. Just not good.

I dropped the letter and stifled a sob. Why are boys so stupid? Why do they not realize we love them so much until it hurts? Why do they beat themselves up like that? Why do they not see the obvious picture?

I huddle myself in the corner to calm myself down. I picked up my phone and called him. No answer. Called him again. No answer. After calling him for five more times with no answer I fling my phone onto the bed and cry. I'm so sick of everything. Sick of people. Sick of the world. Sick of stupidity. Sick of pain. Sick of unsureness. Sick of oblivion.

Sick of love.