Grey

Chapter One

     The world is made to believe it's black and white. Good or evil. But mainly it's just various shades of grey. Is evil really evil if it's justified? If a cop shoots a robber is it justified? Of course, most of the time. If a mother fights off a child abusing spouse and shoots him, is that evil? If a college student fights off a would be date raper, is it justified? If she stabs him in the side to escape, I'd say it was justifiable.

     Then why am I here? I look around the court room from the small table. Lawyer on my left. My parents behind me with different expressions of disgust of their faces. The honorable judge presiding over the court room. The defense attorney speaking and waving his hands around at the images being projected on the TV screen. The feel of metal biting into my skin. I look down and see the glitter of the cuffs around my wrists. If I move ever so slightly I can feel the pain and see the red welts starting to show up on my fair skin.
Why am I the one in cuffs you ask?
Ugh! Beats me. I mean only technically did I kill him.

     So back to the black and white, we agreed some evil is justifiable right? So why am I the one in cuffs for fighting off my attacker. Yes, I did stab him. But that's not the whole story.

     "She then proceeded to repeatedly stab the victim in his chest multiple times. Did Mister Williams  deserve to die? No. Did he roofie Miss Montgomery? Yes. But does that mean that the parents of the deceased now have to bury their son and have a closed casket because she desicrated his remains. He was a young and bright college student with his whole life ahead of him. Captain of the football team, friend of many, Miss Montgomery could have fought him off and left him with his life. Sure he'd end up in jail for a long time but does the ends justify the means? Thank you, your honor that's all." The defense attorney sat back down behind the his desk and looked behind him at Adam's parents and winked.

     They knew what he had done. And still I'm the one on trial. We had went to a bar not to far from the dorm rooms just down the street. What started out as a good night ended with a disaster. And then the twisted darkness in me says it ended in an even better morning. I knew I needed help. I understood that in polite society where normal is our standard I could only live a half life. Pretending to be what everyone had wanted me to be. The young college girl with her head on her shoulders and a bright future.

     Adam and I danced for a few songs and decided to sit down to get drinks. He went to the bar to order while I sat at a table. We kept drinking and we're having a great time. Good conversation? Check. Good looking? Check. A fit into norm circles to appease the world? Check. See normal girl. But the night turned quickly. We left the bar and we're heading back to his dorm room. I knew I must of had way too many drinks to be so light headed but I figured it's college right? Or maybe I had only a couple drinks. I couldn't remember. I remember suddenly being in his room. His rancid breath breathing down my neck as he tried removing my tank top. Where had my shirt gone? His sickly smell of cologne and sweat mixing with his breath. I tried to tell him no. He wouldn't listen. He kept saying it would feel good. He'd feel good. I didn't want my first time to be a drunk hazy mess. I pushed him off, he came back. Push,back. He grabbed my wrists and pushed me back on his bed. Shoving my legs apart. His nasty sticky tongue on my neck. Never had I been more repulsed.

The defense attorney made it seem like what he did was normal. Apparently slipping something in your drink to get laid is normal. But how would I know?
The jury was going to decide if I was guilty or innocent of my crimes. Murder? Okay maybe. But good intentions and all. He did attack me first. I watched the bailiff come toward me to walk me back to a holding cell while they deliberated. I looked to my parents for help but they couldn't stand to look me in the eye. You would think parents would protect the child who was victimized. Not the case for mine. They saw the pictures. Everyone speculated what I'd done. But I never gave out the details exactly. Why give them more ammo.