I wake up to a grey ceiling, a spinning head, an empty stomach, and aching bones. I find myself laying down on a metal bench, and groan in pain and agony, not knowing what else to do. What have I done to be tortured like this? I rub the hot salty tears that flooded my eyes and let out a few sobs. What seems like hours pass by, and I am stuck in the same position. I doze off a few times, but I still awaken to the cruel reality.
A squeak of the metal gates jolts me awake, and I try to get up, but I'm numb all over, and can't seem to do anything but lie down. "Get up, Ms. Tara!" I hear a police officer yell, "Now!" I move my muscles a bit, in attempt to stand up, but I fail on every try. The next thing I know is that I'm carried and thrown yet again in a truck, but I don't lose consciousness this time.
It's humid and dank in the rumbling truck. I strain my hands as I rub my face and hair wincing as pain jolts through my arm. The uneven road beneath the mobile vehicle seems endless. An hour later, I get out of the vehicle. The sun is nowhere in sight as I walk in front of two guards into a fancy looking building -The Court. I don't hear of Abram at all, which worries me a bit; he was just trying to help and save me.
The cool air conditioners leave me cold as I'm escorted inside, and I start to shiver and stumble. The guards grab my arms forcing me to walk upright as we continue walking through the opulent-looking but intimidating hallways. We stop outside a room and enter it after knocking the door three times. Wooden benches are lined up on both sides of the room, and a panel is stationed in front of them. The white light flickers over me as I walk, and the click of the clock makes my eyes and ears twitch.
In the center of the panel, a very old Judge sits on a big black chair along with four others on his right and left. I continue walking down the aisle and sit down on the first bench on the right of the room. I look to my left to find a beat-up Abram sulking on the other hard bench. My heart aches for him; it is evident that he faced worse conditions that I did in the temporary prison cells. The guards leave my side and stand at the back of the room.
The Judge clears his throat, drawing everyone's attention, and declares, "Ms. Tara and Mr. Abram are called in court today due to their execution of the crime of adultery, rebellion against The Muster program, and lying about their true intentions to the parents of Ms. Tara. The judges and I have taken a stance over this case, and agreed to perform the following charges to Ms. Tara: Ms. Tara shall sign the contract of Matrimony to her Mate tomorrow afternoon, and produce a child whom she'll not raise herself. Her Mate, Mr. Jamal, shall wed another Mate after the delivery of the infant, who's going to be nurtured by Mr. Jamal's Second Mate. Ms. Tara will also undergo 50 whips on her back before signing the contract tomorrow..."
As I listen to every word the judge spoke, I feel the life slowly draining out of me. Every word stabs me in the heart and gut. Every word fuels up the rage burning in my chest. Every word breaks and tears away my dreams. Every word leaves me defeated. I don't look at Abram, but I know he's gazing at me. I blink furiously, trying to flutter away from reality, but it hits me even harder as the Judge announces, "As for Mr. Abram's charge. Mr. Abram is going to be deprived of his salary for the next year of work, and is banned from undergoing Matrimony. Court session is over, objections are not entertained nor allowed in this house."
Abram and I both gasp loudly but are immediately shushed by gags. My face congests and I struggle to breathe as the guards press the cloth onto me. Abram tries to fight against the guard who's chocking him, but his strong physique holds Abram down aggressively. Abram groans and screams against the stifling gag; he's not about to let this one slide. But I freeze in my spot, not knowing what to do or make of myself. The insensitive Judges sluggishly leave the room, and I'm left alone with the petrifying guards and an aggrieved Abram.
As soon as the inconsiderate Judges step out of the room, a guards closes and locks the decorated wooden door behind them, stomps towards Abram, and uses all his might to give him a strong blow to the jaw. Consequently, Abram falls in the state of comatose, and before my mind registers the scene that unfolded before me, the guard pushes me in the state of oblivion too.
