Tipping The Scales Of Justice

Tipping The Scales Of Justice: Part One

Jenny Flint always got a little passionate about her cases, that's for sure, but this... this was different. Never before had she been this upset-- no, fired up about a case. She was livid. The petite brunette was sitting alone in her study with a cup of coffee and a single lamp; it was dark, but not as dark as what was sitting in front of her. She took a deep breath and looked away from the open case, sighing. The study smelt like coffee, wood and paper, with a hint of floor polish since the board had been re-done. 

Jenny looked back at the case files spread about her desk and she closed her eyes. How could anyone be so... horrible? What kind of monster was responsible for this level of unwarranted atrocities? She sighed once again before opening her eyes to face the terrible task she’s been given. In front of her lay countless pictures of children. Dead, children.  All of them with bruises, and cuts, and scars, and burns covering them. Marks of obvious torture.  And all the victims no older than sixteen. 

Her slender hand grazed over one of the pictures. 

The photo is of a 15 year old girl. Her name was Clementine Lynn Roth; She had dirty blonde hair and grey/green eyes.  Her face was pale and dusted with freckles. Her eyes were wide and they had a mischievous look about them. Had... 

But that's not the girl in the picture that she saw in the morgue earlier that day. The girl in the morgue was cold as a February river, her limbs laid stiff and colorless, her freckles appeared grey. The sides of her head were marked with blisters and blood. Her eyelids were darkened and swollen, her lips cracked and pale.

All because she loved a girl. 

She was punished for something not only out of her control, but perfectly pure as dawn. 

A sudden wave of hot bile shot up Jenny’s throat, catching her by surprise and prompting her to make a beeline toward the bathroom across the hall. She immediately fell to her knees beside the toilet and proceeded to empty the foul contents of her stomach into the porcelain bowl. She then flushed the toilet with an expression of disgust as she watched it all swirl down and disappear before her very eyes. This case really did a number on her, both physically  and mentally; She felt weak, as if she had somehow aged ten years older. Jenny finally decided that it would be best to just call it a night.

So she looked at her watch, causing her to do a double take.

4:47

It’s already 4:47 in the morning? That can't be right... she pulls out her phone and glares at the brightness. Sure enough, 4:47.

She dragged herself to bed and practically collapsed on top of it, not really bothering to change or get ready for the next day. She stared at the ceiling in grim silence, waiting for merciful sleep to enfold her in its comforting embrace. She's such a clean and hygienic person. It's not like her to not change or to neglect brushing her teeth, but she's simply too tired.

As she started drifting off all that she saw were those same  battered, cold faces of innocent children whose lives were cruelly taken away from them too soon. Maybe, she thinks, maybe in the morning it'll all be over. Maybe this is all just a bad dream... 

But when she woke up later that morning, two hours later to be exact, she's bludgeoned  once again by the brutal reality of a living nightmare .

Jenny dragged herself into the loo and turned on the shower, yawning while she grabbed a towel and hung it up before stripping off her day old clothing. She stepped into the shower and let the warm water pour over her body. She stands still while it drenched her head and rinsed away the sleep from her aching bones.