Page 73 of Tortured Whispers
I couldn’t shove my head in the sand because I was terrified. I had to do things precisely in that moment of fear. It meant I was truly brave like a lion. It meant I was fucking fierce.
Cease and Dr. Hollows stopped talking when I walked around the corner. I know what they saw. They saw dozens of silvery horizontal scars on my arms that were split in half by the bright pink vertical scars I now sported.
I hated every scar but they were mine. I didn’t have to love them to be at peace with them. I only had to acknowledge that they were there and they weren’t going anywhere. The world would either accept them or not. Neither choice was my problem anymore.
“There she is,” Cease said, holding his arm out for me. “You look absolutely beautiful, Brook.” His lips found my temple and I shut my eyes absorbing his strength.
“You do look beautiful, Brooklyn,” Hollows smiled warmly.
“You can call me Brook, Dr. Hollows. I think after school and after this trial, I’m going to be done with Brooklyn Powers.” Caesar locked pinkies with me and I leaned over to kiss his cheek.
We arrived at the courthouse and thank god we were escorted through a side entrance to avoid most of the press. I still dealt with cameras flashing and reporters shouting at me but it was nowhere near the frenzy that was on the front steps.
Caesar and I sat side by side, holding hands while they brought Ashley in. She wore light blue cotton pants and a matching shirt that read: LA COUNTY JAIL on the back in bold black letters. She looked thin and broken.
Good.
I caught Cease looking at me from the corner of my eye. He leaned over and whispered in my ear. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said, my chin pointed forward. He rubbed my knee and focused his attention on Ashley. There was a soft murmur in the room until the judge walked out.
“Judge Caleb Baxter Sr. presiding.” The bailiff stepped to the side and I eyed the judge, trying to figure out why he sounded so familiar. I’d either heard of him before or seen him somewhere.
But where?
I listened to the lawyers and watched the live stream video over and over. I listened to testimonies about how much blood I’d lost and how I would have surely died if Cease hadn’t acted so quickly. I saw blood tests that confirmed my pregnancy then I saw blood tests that confirmed the loss of my pregnancy.
Each thing presented as evidence was a blow to my soul. There were times when I didn’t think the tears would ever stop flowing. Times where Caesar had to wrap his arms around me and hold me together because the broken pieces would crumble to the floor if he didn’t. It was too much.
The days seemed too long.
I thought the trial would never end and at times I asked myself why the fuck I was torturing myself. Every day I walked into court baring my arms and refusing to hide. It pulled and tugged at me until I was nearly transparent from being stretched so thin.
The jurors even shed tears when screenshots of me cutting my wrists were displayed. I’d seen enough of it though. I’d lived through that so many times that it didn’t phase me. Not the blood or the look on my face. The toughest part was hearing about me being six weeks pregnant.
The words sounded foreign to me. Like my skin was far too small and tight to cloak me. I wanted to run and hide from the words being tossed around like nothing. Words like fetus, pregnancy, and abort.
My knee jumped up and down until it was time to read the verdict of the jury. A short, stout man stood and held a piece of paper in his hand. “We, the jury find the defendant, Ashley Hartwell guilty of the charge of attempted murder. We the jury find the defendant, Ashley Hartwell, guilty of the charge of involuntary manslaughter. We the jury find the defendant Ashley Hartwell guilty of the charge of recording without consent.”
Hearing Ashley break down in inconsolable sobs helped to ease the pain of everything I sat through for nearly a week while going through that trial. Her family had the nerve to cry along with her like she deserved pity and compassion. They were just as bad as her.
“Order in the court!” Judge Baxter banged the gavel over and over until silence fell like a hush over the courtroom. Caesar gave my hand a squeeze as we listened. “Miss Hartwell, you have been proven to be a despicable human being as per these testimonies and the video that I have seen with my own eyes. You nearly caused Miss Powers to lose her life because of an internet challenge. You were especially cruel taking advantage of someone who had severe emotional damage.
There is a special place in hell for people like you who disregard human life. For people that push others to kill themselves and think it’s a joke. Something like that is not a joke!”
Was I mistaken or did I see tears in the judge’s eyes? His gaze was fiery on Ashley and she cowered beneath it. “I am the wreckage left behind after a suicide is successful, Miss Hartwell. I lost my son to the Livestream the Loser challenge. I have seen heartless people like you in my courtroom before and age and prior record don’t mean a hill of beans to me.
I will punish you to the fullest extent of the law. You see, you’re dangerous and I have a sworn duty to protect the citizens of California, therefore, I will move to sentence immediately.” A buzz broke out in the courtroom and camera flashes clicked softly in the background.
My fingertips hummed listening to the judge.
He seemed familiar for a reason.
I wasn’t losing my mind.
During my first session with Dr. Hollows, he told me the story about having a bright spot and he told me about a kid younger than me that didn’t have a bright spot and how he killed himself. The kid’s name was Caleb Baxter.
The judge for my case was his father, Caleb Baxter Sr.
