The Rise of the Grim Reaper: Sylvan Sasha Whitney

Chapter Three: Fuck, You Hit Like a Man

Chapter Three:

Fuck, You Hit Like a Man

"GUILTY," THE JUDGE CALLED, his voice echoing throughout the silent courtroom after having conversed quietly with the jury representative.

The word seemed to echo within my mind as my jaw went slack. It was the verdict that I had expected, yet it was just as shocking. I didn't even have time to speak to a rather bewildered Manni before I was ushered out of the room. Karen looked rather smug, despite having lost a case.

Outside of the courtroom was nothing but the blinding lights of cameras and the endless loud chattering of reporters. There was a ringing in my ears, a white hot noise that blotted out most of what the reporters were calling out. Everything seemed to be moving impossibly fast, too fast as the only thing echoing within my mind was the judges' final words.

Guilty.

"Whitney! Whitney, what was the verdict?" One reporter called out, shoving his mic near my face.

I only blinked in silence as another reporter called out, breaking through the haze fogging my mind. "Will you be returning to your path to become a doctor? Or will you now have manslaughter charges marring your record?"

With a grunt I pushed through the noisy reporters, feeling returning with every step I took away from the courtroom. The cold shocked feeling was slowly burned away, replaced with a smoldering anger. An anger directed at how unfair this all was, how I, who was just trying to survive had my life destroyed. With a record I would never be allowed to practice medicine, not even as a nurse. My dream to become a doctor is now, truly, nothing but a dream lost in the wind.

As I was ushered into a squad car I ignored the flashing lights of the cameras, the calls of the reporters. It didn't matter what the public viewed me as now, it wouldn't affect me in any way. I was on my way to the clink, I had more pressing matters to think of. I've never been to in school suspension, much less juvie. Adjustments will have to be made in order for me to survive, no doubt.

"We've arrived at your home, Whitney. Within a few days another officer will be coming to pick you up and drive you down to the station where the bus will take you and other prisoners to the correctional facility." A cop up front stated, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I hopped out of the squad car, with a lack of enthusiasm, and was pleasantly surprised by the lack of reporters. Once again I was left with my thoughts and the burning anger within. Something that doesn't seem to be a rather good mix these days.

With a sigh I entered my home, slamming the door behind me. I didn't bother to turn on the lights, just wandered throughout the dark halls until I happened upon my couch. Dropping down onto it with a thud I leaned back, closing my eyes, trying to relax the anger within me. My mother's sing song voice whispered throughout the halls, an illusion. Father's light laughter filtered down the hall, as if he was only watching a comedy within his room. Light babbling of a baby made its way to my ears, as though my baby brother was alive sitting right beside me.

At the illusions I couldn't help the tears that streamed down my cheeks. My loss, although weeks old, felt like a fresh wound that festered and bled. It hurt so bad that I, someone who prefers not to cry, was sitting here bawling like an infant.

"Stop it." I stated to myself, weak and without conviction.

I leaned forward, wiping away my tears. "Stop! You were never one to cry, so why start now?" I muttered as I rubbed at my eyes, eyes that were probably now swollen and red.

I stood, an annoying unsettling feeling flashing through me. I couldn't help but to pace back and forth, freeing my hair from its high bun. As my hair tumbled down to rest just past my shoulders I ran my hands through it, gripping my roots tightly. My tears had dried yet the sadness and frustration remained. It felt as though I had no control over my life, as though everything had already been decided for me. Like I was backed into a corner by those around me without any option of escape. That it mattered not how hard I struggled against what seemed to be fate, there wasn't anything I could do to change my situation for the better.