Agreements

Guilty - Esther and Micheal's POV

I shouldn't have worn this dress. It's depressing; black. It's like I know the outcome before it's even decided. I wait impatiently on the bench outside the courthouse, picking at the loose thread trailing away from the lace petticoat.

It was too quick. The alcohol overtook me.  My eyes watched as it happened and my brain told me not to but the vodka told me otherwise.

'Mrs Abrams, they have a verdict. Would you like to follow me inside?' Jordan's kind face stares into mine, trying to squeeze something out, but not even managing to look hopeful. I wobble on my satin heels as I stand up from the bench and pretend to fiddle with the clasp on my purse. I just want to run.

It was so dark I couldn't even see who it was. I'm an angry drunk. Some are happy, I'm just infuriated, and I was nothing less as I stumbled out of the bar towards her. She was so delicate in my hands.

The polished oak steps allow my shoes to make as much noise as possible, to cover up my whimpers. There's no doubt to what will happen. The most reliable witness the defence put on the stand was pissing in a drain pipe and trying to play charades with a passing street cat. Still, no one could convince me that he was capable of... that.

I saw everything I ever hated about anyone in that poor girl. I'd never met her. She'd never done me wrong, but in that instant, she was Satan to me. I can still hear her yelp.

Silence falls in the courtroom as our lawyer pushes open the heavy wooden door and holds it for me, so I can walk in and ridicule myself first. The tap of my heels echo and ricochet through the high glass roof, and I feel everyone's stares stab into me like blunt knives. As I slide into a bench, a sharp twang shoots through my stomach and I murmur in pain.

I hate blood. I must've been sick afterwards because I can't stand it. Especially not my own, and I made a deep incision in my palm when it happened. At least for her it was over quickly.

Micheal is slouched over the defence table like a lost cause, grasping the shackles in between his wrists and whispering so quickly and quietly I can't hear it, even if I lean over the front bench. His dark brown hair is flat and matted, and when he runs his hands over his head, they're grey and bruised. I don't think I can stand watching this anymore.

The bottle shattered easily against the brick, harmonising with the cry she let out as I throttled her against the wall. I ran the sharp edge over my hand to check it was good. Fucking stupid mistake. The sting of alcohol ran into my cut and I roared out in agony, making her scream again.

'All rise for the jury foreperson.' We all stand in unison, except Micheal, who has to be heaved up by Jordan. 'Has the jury reached a verdict?' Judge Gold's eyes dart over to a large, elderly lady who stands up from the jury.

'We have, your honour.' She leans forward and passes it over to the Judge. He scans it, expressionlessly. I can feel the tears fall already. Why wait? There's no doubt. He passes it back over and nods slowly.

I was a completely different man that night. I would never normally harm a fly. But this girl, she pulled me in. And as I picked up the razor sharp edge of glass, I was scarily aware of what I was doing. It sounded like cutting meat, as the bottle penetrated her chest cavity and I ripped it down from her throat to her waist. Her blonde hair was now stained with crimson as she lay, motionless.

'We the Jury, find the defendant guilty of murder in the first degree.' The shackles clatter to the floor as Micheal collapses. I don't think there's anyone in that courtroom who wasn't expecting it. Yet, I still feel flooded by shock as I very calmly stand up and walk out.