*Marilyn's Point Of View*

Finding out that our life as a whole has spiraled out of control, is overwhelming. So many dead ends; not enough miracles. After finding out about Jasmine's rape and Michael's minor stroke, I decided that it was time to end this once and for all. No more trudging through situations. That meant facing our problems head on. First thing first; David Taylor. Making him pay for what he did.

I swore to my family and Michael that I will make sure justice prevails. Which brought me here; the courthouse, yet again. I hate this place. Accompanying me is my mother, Bill, Jasmine, Brandon, and Joseph. Mother (along with Rafael and two extra guards) is flying back to California to take care of Jordyn, Michael, and Dylan.

I couldn't have them staying here to endure this nightmare; especially Michael. Though I'm worried about his health, I'm more so worried about Jasmine. She refuses to eat, talk, and can't sleep without having nightmares. It hurts knowing I can't take it back. I wish I could. All I can do is pray that we have a fair quick trial.

The only thing that or person that can prohibit this from going how we would like is Brandon. He has repeatedly threaten to testify against Jasmine. I don't understand his decision, not one bit. He is blinded by this love facade.

I can't say if his love for David is real, but apparently it's strong enough for him to turn against his family. It's hard to deal with, everything that's happening is wearing me down. Once this is all over, I want a long break. I think all the Jackson's will agree.

*Michael's Point Of View*

"Michael... honey you need to eat.", Mother Burgess soothes, setting a tray of soup and tea on the bedside table. I take a short glance at the tray before turning on my side. "No thank-you. I'm not hungry.", I mumble, pulling the covers over my shoulder. I hear her sigh before her footsteps fade from the bedroom. Once I'm sure she is gone, I slowly shift under the covers and glance at my tray.

I honestly lied. I'm actually starving. I haven't eating normally lately. Sometimes, it's my stress stealing my appetite, but sometimes I just choose not to eat. I miss my family, I want to hold Jasmine's hand as she stands on that stand for four hour's everyday, reliving her greatest nightmare.

I can only imagine how she feels looking into the eyes of David. Having him fabricate lies with her eldest brother defending his every word. Due to my minor stroke a few week's ago, I have to take it easy. So I can't travel to Florida and talk since into Brandon's head. And I can't hold Marilyn every night she cries.

But I am happy that Jordyn and Dylan are here to cheer me up as well as be protected. Falling back into reality by the rumbles of my aching stomach, I slowly reach over for my tray. "Dad?..", A voice whispers, cracking the bedroom door. I look up and watch a well groomed afro emerge from behind the crack. A caramel face soon follows just below his knee's.

My two of four precious gifts; Dylan and Jordyn. "Daddy!", Jordyn squeals, trotting towards the bed. Dylan quickly follows behind her scooping her before an accident could happen. "No. No Dilly. I want daddy!", She whines, squirming in his hold. A smile creeps upon my face as I ignore my hunger to gain a serving of love from my beautiful children.

"Just bring her here Dylan.", I instruct weakly. Dylan frowns, reluctantly obeying. "Dad... You need to eat. Nana sent me to tell you that.", He explains, carefully dropping Jordyn into the bed. She quickly wiggles up to me, snuggling into my armpit. For some reason she loves my underarms. 

Still worrying, Dylan keeps an careful eye on Jordyn while I take a few spoonfuls of my chicken noodle soup. "Dad I'm scared... ", Dylan admits, starring at a dozing Jordyn. I slurp at the last of my noodles before replying. "Why are you scared?", He sighs and takes my empty bowl from me, trading it for my camomile tea.

"Because of David and Brandon. Dad it's all over the tv! I hate seeing us on TV like that. It hurts when the kid's at camp pick on me.I'm scared that thing's won't get better. You'll have a real stroke. Mom will run herself crazy and Jasmine will become a depressed... Girl. I don't want that.", He exhales heavily, plopping onto the end of the bed.

"I wish you weren't famous. I want to go back to our old house. I-I hate this house.", He concludes, putting his face in his hand's. Knowing Dylan is a boy of a few word's, it really hits me hard that he feels this way. I never wanted any of this to happen. "Dylan, buddy I swear thing's are going to get better. I promise you that.", I assure him, setting my mug on the bedside table.

He glances up at me, still unsure. "Then what about you? Whose taking care of you?", He asks in a soft spoken tone. "I'm fine. I'll be healed fully in a month or two. I'm okay. I have you, Jordyn, Patrick and Nana taking care of me. Don't you worry buddy. I love you.", I assure him again, motioning for him to come hug me.

By this time, Jordyn is fast asleep, so Dylan carefully walks over to me and hugs me tightly. "I love you so much dad.", He whispers, tightening his hold on my neck. I peck his forehead. "I love you too buddy.",

*Jasmine's Point Of View*

"Relax, I won't hurt you girl. I promise you will enjoy.", He whispers, as he removed my clothing. With the last of my dress hanging from my ankles, he slowly wraps his hand's around my waist. A grin I don't recognize is plastered on his face. The once handsome man is now a monster threatening my innocence. "Relax girl...", He lulls once again before he lays me within his trap.

A trap he and my brothers share. A trap that I can't be set free from. Once his dangerous games continue to physically incline, so does the rate of my rapidly beating heart. "No... I don't want this. I can't do this David.", I whimper, before he penetrates. "Shh. I'll be careful...",He grins gritting his teeth into my neck. "Please... No...",...*

Everyday I sit in that stand, I am constantly reminded of what he did to me. In grave detail I repeat the events of that night. Even closing my eyes is a caution zone. I close them and see him, I open them and face him. I can't escape. I just want to go home. I want to lay in my bed and forget this all happened.

"Miss Jackson. Was this the first time he assaulted you?", The defendant lawyer asks, snatching me back into reality. I tear away from my gaze out of the courtroom window, meeting the grey eyed man. "Yes. Other's he would touch me.", I reply softly. He nods.

"Did you enjoy those touches?",-"Your honour I object! That question has nothing to do with the fact that Mister Williams client raped this fourteen year old girl!", Our lawyer screeches from his bench. Judge Brown eyes him angrily. "No more out burst Mister Stiles or you will be excused.", He warns. Mr Stiles quietly takes his seat.

"I agree With Mister Stiles. This nothing to do with the trial.", He expresses to Mr Williams. I avoid eye contact as Mr Williams paces before me. "Look, In order for this to go from touching to oral and then to all out physical, someone led someone on. Now, I have reasons to believe Miss Jackson here isn't telling the whole truth.", He concludes winking at me.

Not wanting stand another second of this as the courts deliberated, I quietly call for a break. "I can't do this right now. Please, Please let me go home.", I plead with Judge Brown. He sighs, removing his glasses. "It's only fair. Court dismissed until tomorrow. ", I quickly hop off The stand and sprint's towards mom, Bill and grandad. "You Did greater Snickers.", Mom smiles.

"Come on the girl has enough on her mind. I can't be in this room right now, I might get charged for murder.", grandad grumbles, gently taking my hand. Mom nods in agreement and escorts us out of the courtroom, with Bill and Mr. Stiles close behind. As we walk down the hall, I catch Brandon walking out of the men's room.

He stares at me coldly before tearing away from our stare. Mother always told me to let the good out weigh the bad, I just pray Brando will find use of that analogy. I want my brother back, and I want him to believe me...

To Be Continued...