Half Face by Mara Li

Chapter 1 - The Wait

He has dark tattoos covering almost every inch of his visible body, including his face, where the ink forms a terrifying mask: one half black as tar, the other half white like a crescent moon, broken only by thick black lines that run from the bridge of his nose to his temple. The darkness makes his eyes stand out shockingly bright.

I turn my eyes away from the photograph, not wanting to catch that gaze. The thought that I will have to see him for real in just a few minutes makes my hands clammy. Right now, Harry Dartes is still in the courtroom, giving his testimony. But he'll be alright; Harry is a big, strong man. I saw a lot of anger in his eyes this morning, when we were welcomed by three court attendants of the Justice House. A lot of anger, but no fear.

I don't know whether I will be alright. The nightmares became a recurring dread each night, with the date of the hearing creeping closer. And now I'm finally here, and I wish I had never agreed to this.

The room that I'm waiting in is small, and barely comfortable. I'm sitting in one of the two chairs, braiding my fingers together on the tabletop in front of me. There's a cup of cold tea next to me; I have barely sipped from it. The other chair is occupied by a currently silent court attendant.

I don't like the room. I hate the silence.

Somewhere down the hall, I hear the faint noise of a door opening and closing. I look up expectantly, but the court attendant shakes her head.

'You're due 3 o'clock; don't count on anything earlier. Do you want more tea?' she adds, dropping that brisk tone, as if she suddenly remembers that I am not the one on trial today. I'm just one of the few lucky ones to survive the robbery of Fallhallow National Bank, on the day that the criminal known as the Half Face decided to try his luck there. The silence, the empty room, they're all just to guarantee a fair trial – or so they've told me. They wouldn't want any of the witnesses to be influenced before giving their testimony in court. Personally, I can't imagine why it would matter. The Half Face was caught with the hot blood of his victims still on his hands. I'd seen it myself, just as I had seen the woman whose blood it was tumble to the ground.

'No, thank you,' I mutter. I shift in my chair, uncomfortably aware that my clothes are clinging to my back. I'm wearing a knee-length skirt and a long-sleeved blouse, the most formal look I could muster with the temperature outside the building rising to tropical standards. Even here in this room, hidden away between cold stone hallways and marble pillars, the heat seems to make gravity feel thicker.

I glance at my watch. Fifteen minutes to go. It seems both too fast and too slow.

I go over the rehearsed words in my head. What if I forget everything I need to say? What if I black out, or cry? I don't want to cry where he can see me. No, that cannot happen.

In an attempt to distract myself, I slide my phone out of my pocket and mindlessly scroll through the menu. I freeze when I come across the news feed.

Liveblog: trial of top-criminal known as "the Half Face" continuing today.

Someone in that courtroom is twittering the events, and I'm locked up in this miserable room until they can bring me out like the next circus act.

'I must ask you to put your phone away for now,' the woman says. When I look up, I find her looking at me with a pitying gaze. 'We don't want you to read anything that can influence your statement.'

Of course. 'I'm just nervous,' I say, and put my phone back in my pocket.

'You will be absolutely fine. If you find you don't want to look at him, you don't have to. Remember that you're doing this to help us put him away for good. That is why you choose to testify, isn't it?'

'Right.'

She nods, and we fall into silence again, until there's a brief knock on our door. The woman smiles, rises from her chair and beckons me.

Suddenly, my heart is racing even harder than before. 'Can...can I go to the bathroom real quick?'

'Sure. Just this way.' She leads me over to another door and remains outside as I enter.

The tiles are shiny and clean. I hear the buzzing of air conditioning.

After I flush, I take a quick moment to splash a handful of cold water in my face. It helps a little. I lean my hands on the sink and stare at my reflection in the round mirror. I'm very pale. My eyes are wide open, like a frightened animal. Strands of dark brown hair are falling from the bun that had been so tightly secured this morning. They cling to my sweaty face. I brush them away.

The woman knocks on the door. 'Juliet? It's time.'

I'm on the verge of calling out: No! Leave me alone, I'm not going! There's a thick feeling in my throat that I try to get rid of by swallowing. When it doesn't work, I settle for a deep breath before wiping my palms on my skirt and exiting the bathroom.

'There's no need to be nervous,' the woman says again. But what does she know? She didn't have to drop to the ground, pretending to be a dead body, while a monster was standing mere feet away from her and filled the hall with laughter.

We make our way across the building, all the way to the end of the long corridor, and make a right turn. The entire building is so clean. We pass a large, square painting on the wall; we pass a mirror where I briefly catch my pale reflection, we pass a man with a cell phone pressed to his ear, giving us a curious glance.

Then the woman stops in front of a dark, polished door. The small plate next to the door reads Courtroom 14.

We're here.

The woman gives me an encouraging smile. I pull up the corners of my mouth, just enough to make it look like I'm smiling back.

'Remember, you just have to answer a few questions. I'll be here to escort you back.'

'I know.'

She looks like she wants to say something else, but before she does, the door opens. I automatically step back, creating some space for Harry Dartes. He sees me, undoubtedly registers the worry in my eyes, and gives my shoulder a brief squeeze. 'It's worse just before you go in, girl.'

I nod. He smiles one last time before another court attendant urges him on, and mine gestures to me, indicating that I will have to enter Courtroom 14 at last.

I check my posture, make sure my shoulders are straight and my jaw is set. Then I relax my fists, which I'm clenching without really noticing it.

'Good luck,' the woman says.

And then I take a step inside. The door closes behind me.  

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This is a chapter from "Half Face" by Mara Li. Are you curious about what's going to happen next? You can buy the book in our shop at www.youngadultshop.com. Oh, and you have no shipping costs;) 

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