The Accident

Wednesday 2nd July 2014

WEDNESDAY, 2ND JULY 2014

“Will the defendant please take the stand.” 

The words made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on edge. They made my hands go clammy, my stomach turn. I had to shut my eyes to try to calm myself, and I began to count down from ten.

10…9…8…7…6…5…4…3…2…1

Silence fell over the courtroom like a cloak and all of a sudden I felt smothered. I didn’t know by what or by who, but I felt it. I pushed my chair back, trying to be as silent as a mouse, but the scratching of wood on wood sliced through the atmosphere like a knife. 

Like a razor blade. 

My heart was thumping so hard in my chest I felt as if it might burst through my skin. I sucked in air, trying to keep my breathing even and steady, but no matter how hard I tried to breathe deeply, it ended up irregular and shallow, the air was so thick, like oatmeal. My hands were shaking, and my entire body seized up and I felt like I couldn’t move. As if my bones had just shattered throughout my entire being. 

My shoes made a clicking sound on the wooden floor and there was a smattering of mutters and coughs as I walked up to the stand. I sat down, my whole body cold and tense.

Why was I here?

What had I done?

“Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?” 

“I do.” I nodded, my voice coming out as no more than a whisper. And even as I said the words, even as they came tumbling out of my mouth, even as they were formed by my very own tongue, I knew I would lie. 

They were a lie in themselves.

“Miss Grant.” A man in dark suit spoke, loudly, confidently. Almost cocky. My prosecutor.

“Yes?” My voice was still quiet. 

“Can you please state your relationship with the deceased for the Jury?” He smiled. He smiled. 

“She…She was my best friend.” I stuttered. 

“Was?” He looked surprised at my wording. This is a trap, this is a trap, this is a trap. 

“Yes…She’s dead.” I replied, slowly. If I hesitated for too long it would look suspicious. Don’t you dare look suspicious.

“Well, yes, indeed, but this soon after someone has died, especially someone one was so close to, one would still tend to say ‘is’. But you didn’t. You used past tense, quite confidently, I feel.” I wanted to deny it, say he was wrong. 

But he wasn’t.

“We weren’t exactly…close, towards the-the, err…” I trailed off looking for the right words.

“The end?” He raised his eyebrows in suggestion. I gulped.

“Yes…The end.” 

“So, what happened? Have an argument?” 

“Not really…she just…She just stopped talking to me.” Probably the most truth I would ever say in this trial.

“For no reason? That must have made you mad, right? I know I would be mad, if my best friend for three years just stopped talking to me.” He’s putting words in your mouth. Do not agree, do not agree with him!

“No. Not really…frustrated and a little hurt…but not mad, exactly.” I lied. 

“Talk me through what happened on the 26th of June, please, Ruby.” I nodded. This was it. Do not screw up. You can’t screw up.

“I was walking home from the library, at around nine. I had a History project due and my brothers were being too loud for me to get anything done.” I saw the lawyer make a face at the extra information. Crap. No innocent person would give a full back story to every little detail. Keep it minimal.

Innocent.

“So, I decided to walk through the park, as it was still open. As I passed the playground I saw Cambridge. She was on the swings drinking something from a bottle. I wasn’t close enough to see what it was. There was a guy with her, I didn’t recognise him. And since I wasn’t friends with her anymore, I just kept walking.” Lies, lies and more lies. 

Please believe it. Please, I’m begging you.

“So Cambridge was alive when you left her?” I nodded, thinking that if I said anymore I’d trip myself up.

“There was no, let’s say, pool of blood on the ground and bat in your hand that you’d used to smash her skull in?” White noise filled my ears and I vaguely recall my lawyer shouting objection and the judge responding with sustained. 

But they both shut up when I started screaming. 

The prosecutor was so close to me when the shrill sound came out that he jumped and stumbled back a few steps. 

“I didn’t touch her.” My voice was wavering, my speech slow. “I saw her in the park, and I kept walking. Why can’t you get that through your GODDAMN THICK SKULL?!” My hands were shaking again, so fast, so very fast, and my whole body start to twitch uncontrollably. I knew I shouldn’t have shouted, or screamed at the prosecutor. At that moment I was thinking ‘This is it. It’s all over now. They’ll charge me and I’ll have to spend the rest of my life rotting away in a jail cell. All because I freaking snapped.’

But I got out. I don’t know how I did it and I don’t know why, but I got out.