Page 113 of Collateral Damage

Play – Fable – Gigi Perez’

We eventually arrive with half an hour to spare, walking inside to find a seat and my nerves are spiking. I’ve not been around this many people in almost a year and I was never good in crowds, which makes this even worse when I can feel everyone's eyes on me like a fish in a tank. Her mom holds my shoulder gently, caressing the fabric of my top to let me know she's here and it’s comforting. It makes me sad to know how horribly Kacey speaks about her mother sometimes. She’s been nothing but an angel.

“Miss. Blackthorne. Please. Follow me.” An empathetic smile graces me as my lawyer escorts me to my seat in front of the judges stand, still empty and I sit, trying to chew on my anxiety but my lips are bruised and raw. I don’t know how long this will take, but the officer who interrogated me is on the left side of the room, glaring at me with darkness behind his eyes that sends chills down my spine. I don’t even know exactly what I’m going to say but the cycle of child abuse ends today. I will serve her justice. With or without her here. This is the right thing to do. For her and millions of other kids suffering. If I end up behind bars, so be it. But logistically they have nothing on me. I should be ok.Right?

Ten minutes go by and the court room fills up with strange faces. People who have simply come to watch and it bothers me, as they all gawk at the back of my head, shuffling to their seats. I suppose they are expecting to hear me break and admit to something I never did. I can tell by the funny faces I’m getting, no one in this room is feeling empathy or remorse for my disappearance and pressure builds in my chest, gripping on my heart, trying to control my nerves that have my leg shaking.

Breathe baby. In and out with me. Like we practised.

Her voice echoes through me like voices in an abandoned manor as I squeeze my eyes shut, imagining her pressed against me to slow my heart rate and it’s working as I concentrate on themovement in my feet.I’m in control.Fighting to hold back more grievances.

The judge finally enters and the room falls silent as everyone raises to their feet, so silent you could hear a pin drop, making me hold my breath.

“Please be seated.” He orders, and he doesn't waste any time.

“Alora D’arcy Blackthorne, age nineteen, birthday the fourteenth of February, year nineteen ninety. Do you solemnly swear that you will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?” I glare at him, nodding as I pick at my fingers.

“Yes, your honour.”

“Am I correct in saying, you have been missing since the thirtieth of October two thousand and nine?”Has it really been that long?It seems like only yesterday I went missing, even though when I was stuck in that house the first few months felt like years and then it went by too quickly. What is forever when you lose your forever in someone.

“Yes, your honour.”

“And you have been held against your will since this time by someone you had no affiliation with until your abduction?”

“Yes, your honour.”

“According to many officers as witnesses, you were seen infiltrating on the day of her arrest. Is that correct?” I breathe in sharply, trying not to shift my focus to the hundreds of eyes on me but I have to be honest. That is why I am here.

“Yes, your honour.”

“And can you tell me why you tried to get in front of a gun to protect your kidnapper?” His words take me back there for a moment as the bullet ricochets in my ears, ringing with white noise as I stare into the void.“Miss. Blackthorne?”

“Because she did not deserve to die.” I blurt. And I don't have to see my lawyer to feel the disappointment in her face as she rubs the bridge of her nose.

“By this statement, I'm going to assume you were romantically involved with Miss Moore. Is that correct?” I can feel the judgement seeping from the audience, already disgusted by the question as I hold my head up and take a deeper breath.

“Yes, your honour.” An array of gasps and low whispers stretch across the courtroom and I clamp my eyes shut trying to block them out. Trying to remember I'm not here for me. I'm here for her.This is all for her.

“I have your journal here that has been analysed in great detail. Am I correct in thinking you were sexually and intimately involved with Miss Moore?” My shame expands and I suddenly feel so small, afraid to look at anyone but the judge who doesn't seem to be too patronising, easy on his words with me.

“Yes, your honour.” Not only was I sexually intimate with my kidnapper. It was a woman, and I can feel the judgement pounding the back of my head.

“And do you understand why you are in court today?” He asks gently, holding my journal in his hand.

“Yes, your honour.”

“Can you tell me why?” I can't exactly be angry at a judge if they don't have the correct information. It's the CPD I have issues with. They are the ones breaking rules and not sticking to their words.

“Because you think I was somehow aiding her criminal activity.”

“And were you?” He says it without judgement, letting a tiny sincere smile slip from the corner of his lip, like he already knows I was never a sinister part in any of this.

“No, your honour.”

I startle at the abrupt reply from beside me at the man I have no recollection of. He’s in a dark suit and slicked back hair. Not as pristine as Hays though, and I turn my nose up at him as he forces his voice to us.

“Objection! Miss Blackthorne went missing the week her parents were reported missing, only to be found without a scratch, sharing intimate moments with the criminal your honour. That leaves suspicion!” I kiss my canine underneath my lip in irritation. I know this is his job but the way they think I look like I'd even be capable of having a hand in my parents deaths sets my blood on fire.

---