#72 in nymph
#5 in convicted
E X C E R P T
"Petrov speaking" the thick Russian accent filtrated the dense air
"Yea ah Boss, its Kelv," I answered back nonchalantly
"Tell me did the boy listen to me" he rasped
"Mhm He showed up, he even hugged the...
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C O U R T R O O M
M U D D L E D F R O M R E A L I T Y, any noise or light chit chat that lingered adrift to what I made myself think was my reality—just paused. I was surrounded by a defining silence, the courtroom made my blood as cold as the autumnal air that crept through an open window. Bereft of any wind, the leaves outside hung limp until they fell of their own accord, It was as if nature conspired to keep me in the dark, not daring to whisper the reassurance I ever so dearly craved. Then hurried footsteps and the squeak of a door brought my heart racing as fast as a gunshot, My head snapped in an instant from gazing out of the window with unfocused eyes to the rectangle of white Formica— the Clerk arrived hands behind his back and nose held high.
"Order in the court." his voice boomed reminding us all why we were actually here.
" The honorable Mister justice, Gerald Findgens Presiding. All rise. Department One of the Superior Court is now in session. " looking over at the door he had just arrived through ten seconds prior, now stood an old man with incredible posture as he walked towards his high chair at the stand my eyes scanned his every movement even down to the twitch of his left hand,
This was bad actually this just might be worse than not being able to go to that one Hannah Montana concert when I was ten, she never again toured after that and I was a small-town girl in the middle of butt fuck America so it wasn't like I was about to show up at south cal only for a three hour show, but oddly enough it hadn't been despair nor, the need to cry when I found out I couldn't go It's not predictable anger or pain. it's the "randoms," stuff you know it's coming, just never when. The randoms work on the mind as torture, elevating primal fear, decreasing logic and self-control, and the day of the concert when the snobby rich girls from my school had gone I completely lost my shit I even had the audacity to break my mom's favorite vase
'sorry mom' this took me back to that time, painfully stupid comparison but I couldn't forget that feeling of unknown hurt because in reality— I lived my life not knowing what was going on half of the time and in that specific moment, yes the feeling of not being there at the stupid concert, had the world crashing onto my shoulders, and this moment the weight of the world and everyone's emotions were on my shoulders just like that day. That emotion just sucked being at a loss for what to feel, I mean I wanted to say, more like scream into existence that I felt innocent but in practicality, being innocent was two strangely different things, because I know what happened and like in every situation there's three stories 'Yours, Mines, and the Truth' but his couldn't be told not anymore that is 'Awkward'.
