While Life Goes on

Chapter 2

I'm not really sure how frequent my post will be from now on. I have to move back to my dorm Monday and classes start Wednesday. It would be awesome if you'd leave some feedback. Also, I was contacted by a literary agent that is interested in trying to get 'While Life Goes On' PUBLISHED once it is complete!!! So, yeah, it's been an exciting week!

xx

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Legacy.

Something you leave behind.

You are forever known for it.

What would be ours?

“Harvey!”

I called to him through the crowded lobby. When he turned his head and saw me, he started making his way towards me. Almost as if it was planned, we met in the middle and started making our way to the large metal doors of the courthouse.

“Are you ready for this Bentley?”

He was referring to all the journalists, photographers, and news stations waiting outside to attack me with their questions, as if being on the stand wasn’t enough. Harvey said no one was expecting me to actually go through with my testimony until I was sworn in.

“No worries, I’ve got my Nicole Richie shades ready,” I said, reaching into my purse and pulling the black monstrosities out. I put them on my face, and I don’t care how fashionable they are, they cover half my face. It’s ridiculous! I guess I’ll admit that they’re amazing at blocking out the blinding flash of the cameras that were surrounding the entrance to the courthouse.

It was just as much a circus now as it was on the first day of the trial two weeks ago. Maybe it was a stupid masochistic thing to do, but I’ve sat through every tiring day of this trial. The first day, I made the mistake of walking down the front steps without the proper eye protection. It was horrible. All I could think of was when I woke up in that room, and the searing pain the chandelier had caused my eyes. I had to fight the memory of that night from pushing it’s way out.

“Awesome, I think we have lunch reservations to get to then.”

With that, we pushed through the double doors to the madness that awaited us.

“Bentley, were you dating Spencer Atchison or Tyson Wheeler?”

“Is it true that you’re only testifying for money?”

“Are you pregnant with one of the defendants’ child?”

Suddenly a man jumped in front of us. He looked to be about 37, big, bald, and probably hairy in all the wrong places. We had no option but to stop the escape until the man moved out of the way.

“Ms. Ryan, did you kill Spencer Atchison?”

I didn’t even need a second to think about what I was going to do next. I remember the day Spencer taught me to punch. He always made fun of me because I punched like a girl.

“Come on Bentley, you know you want to hit me. Do it, I dare you!”

“No, Spence! This is stupid. Why would I hit you?”

“Because…you made out with a girl! You made out with a girl!”

That was it.

“He was not a girl!”

Spencer had three simple steps:

Ball your fist.

Reach way back.

Finally, assert yourself.

Oomph. It felt like my hand and hit a wall. I finally actually looked at what was happening in front of me. Harvey had caught my fist, preventing me from hitting the fat journalist as he stumbled down a few steps. Everything was silent, except the clicking of the camera lenses, forever capturing the spectacle that was taking place.