The Innocents

Chapter Five

The thunder crashed as I watched the rain fall down the outside of my dorm window.

Outside, the giggles of a girl caught in the sudden downpour and the honk of a car probably there to rescue her or so I'd like to think. I sat back at my desk watching the little red light of my monitor blink. Soon it will light up green and I will learn the results of the trial. I wish Jack were here, but he had class. I was diligent in making sure his life went on as normally as possible. My teachers gave me the chance to do most of mine in the safety bubble of my dorm room. Crawford had done the same. We weren't allowed within three feet of each other.

I am the type of person to hide emotions. I can admit to that. That night in Jackson's room was the only time I cried over this. I ventured out of my dorm every now and then, but only to stabilize my sanity. I was close to an episode while walking through the antiperspirant aisle at the local Walgreen. Just smelling the same scent that Crawford had worn that night sent my body into shakes. It was a popular brand. Everyone wore it. It was only now that I noticed how awful it was.

God almighty, how could you allow such a person to walk your earth and do this injustice? Could there had been a different, less horrifying way to teach me a life lesson?

Isn't that how it goes? You live through some sort of trauma and you're supposed to come out stronger, having learned something incredible fruitful and necessary to continue on with life. Scars are experience, knowledge is power etc, etc. Bad guys are not supposed to win. They're just not.

But this is real life and evil seems to win more than we all would like to think.

They brought me a priest when I was waiting in that nurse's station waiting on the campus police to arrive. It was as if I was dying and he wanted to give me my last rights. He mentioned the very same thing to me about evil doers and for a moment, even though I was not Catholic, I thought maybe I was in agreement with someone who understood my position in this. Then he asked if I wanted to purge my guilt and confess my sins and I told him to leave.

Instead of purging my guilt, I am writing this. This will be my account of the ball of my life that was sent spiraling out of control.

I am not sure how long the green light had been blinking when I finally look down to see it. I tap the screen to answer it and see my father. He is sitting beside my lawyer, a lanky woman with a stern look. You'd think with a look like that that she'd be at least a bit intelligent, but no. She always came across, to me, as someone skirting by.

Right now, both of their faces radiated disappointment and I remember the feeling of wanting to puke. I wanted to throw the monitor across the room. I wanted to run. I wanted them to hang up and call back, but this time with smiles on their faces.

I lost. They confirmed it. There was no fantasy I could make up in my head that could take this away.

"I'd like you to leave school, honey," my father said to me. My lawyer nodded her head in agreement.

"The semester is almost over," I replied, holding back my anger. "I can't go now."

"I know, but I'd like you to."

"Where's mom?"

My mother was absent through most of the trial. I didn't blame her. If I had the choice, I'd be absent, as well. What had happened had sent her into a semi-comatose state. So my question of asking where she was had been rhetorical and made to change the subject. I knew full well where she was. Lying in a fetal position and crying for me.