Brielle’s P.O.V.

I sat behind my lawyer, leg jiggling nervously. I was back in court, and Niall was here too. I haven’t seen him since I sang that song to him, basically telling him that yeah, he ruined me. I glanced across the aisle, sneaking a glance at him.

It was like we were in war. My dad and I on this side and my ex-boyfriend and my mother on the other side. It was scary, actually. Those two people were such a huge part of my life that I don’t really know why they suddenly switched sides, especially Niall.

Okay, that last one was a lie; we all know why he changed sides. The judge was getting ready, preparing his notes. I looked at the jury; they looked like they were ready for a good debate. I only hoped it was.

“The prosecutors will come forward,” the judge said.

The lawyer against me walked up and began his spiel. He outlined what happened that night, but it was wrong. He made me the killer, for one thing. He also made the fight worse than it was. I mean, all we did was yell at each other for maybe fifteen minutes. This lawyer was saying that we screamed at each other for hours, and that I slapped James before killing him.

Okay, where on Earth did he get the idea that I’d slapped James? There was absolutely no proof of that. Or was there? Honestly, after I came back home that night was a little blurry.

“Lucy Williams, please come up to the stand,” the prosecuting lawyer, his name was Mr. Goila, said.

That was my mother. My dad fidgeted in his seat as my mother slid out of the rows and walked up to the stand. I guess after not seeing his wife for about twenty years can be a little awkward. Just a little.

“State your name for the record please,” Mr. Goila said.

“Lucy Williams,” my mother said.

“What is your relation to Ms. Williams?” he asked.

“She’s my daughter,” Mum said.

“What is your relation to James Williams?” Mr. Goila asked.

“He was my son,” her voices caught on the ‘was.’

“What happened the night of your son’s death?” he questioned.

My mother began her story, how she was at work when it happened, and how when she came home she found James on the floor, dead.  This is where I found out what really happened that night. My mother was the one who called the police and medics, and then proceeded to try and give my brother first aid. It was no use. He died almost instantly.

That part relieved me a little, because the last thing I wanted was for James to suffer. My mother was sent down from the stand and the medical examiner that examined James’ body was called up.

“What is the cause of death?” Mr. Goila asked.

“Mr. Williams died from a gunshot to his head,” the medical examiner said. “He also had many lacerations on his wrists and a couple on his head, from struggling. He also was cut by something sharp on his chest, which was why he had a bloodstain on his chest.”

Then, Mr. Goila questioned the police officers that had examined the crime scene.

“Was there anything unusual about the crime scene?” Mr. Goila inquired.

“Nothing completely unusual,” one police officer, a no-nonsense man named Officer Pachino, said. “There was no sign of forced entry, so it was probable that James knew his killer.”

I felt everyone look at me when he said this and I felt my face redden. This certainly wasn’t helping me but then again, James knew a lot of people. He was the kind of guy that was friends with everyone.  

“There were broken vases and some furniture moved from when James and the killer wrestled, but other than that, there were no outstanding features of this crime scene,” Officer Pachino finished.

“Thank you,” Mr. Goila said smoothly. “I’d like to call Niall Horan up to the stand.”

Niall stood up and walked to the stand. Mr. Goila nodded at him. Why don’t I get that respect?

Oh right, I’m a murderer. Duh.

“State your name for the record,” Mr. Goila said; well, ordered, really.

“Niall Horan,” Niall said, his Irish accent ringing across the room.

“What is your relation to Ms. Williams?” Mr. Goila questioned.

Come on, I thought, rolling my eyes. Let’s get some more original questions here.

“She’s my ex-girlfriend,” Niall said, his voice getting quieter.

“What happened?” Mr. Goila asked.

Why do they need to know this? It’s not like my personal life is of any importance here.

“I was an idiot,” Niall said quietly.

My head snapped up and I looked at him. He caught my eye and smiled a little, his face sad. I looked at Mr. Goila, trying to ignore the fact that Niall looked miserable and tired. His eyes were red-rimmed and sunken.

“Why, exactly, do you call yourself an idiot?” Mr. Goila asked.

“I cheated on Brielle,” he said, eyes fixed on me.

He’s been the first person in this trial to call me by my first name. That was irrelevant.

“I loved her and I made a huge mistake, just because I couldn’t pull myself together for even twenty-four hours,” Niall said.

He said he loved me. As in past tense which basically means not anymore. That was also irrelevant.

“I got a little drunk and made a big mistake,” Niall said, eyes locked on mine.

I needed to stop looking at him. His eyes made me go weak in the knees. I’m sure if I was standing, I would have collapsed from the pleading look in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” he said now, and this time I was absolutely sure that he wasn’t talking to Mr. Goila anymore. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

The judge was watching Niall. Mr. Goila started to talk, but the judge waved him off and asked a question of his own.

“Do you think Ms. Williams killed her brother?” he asked softly.

Niall’s eyes didn’t move from mine as he said, “You mean Brielle? No, she’s completely innocent. I swear it.”

Some people whispered to each other, which worried me. Not all of them would believe Niall. After all, he did say he thought I killed James earlier in this trial.

The judge didn’t look away from Niall as he said, “Thank you. You may sit down now.”

Niall got up and walked back to his seat. As he faced me, he mouthed, ‘I’m so sorry.’

I tried to ignore him and focus on this trial. It was more important. This trial would either free me or lock me up for the rest of my life.

“I’d like to call Ms. Williams up to the stand,” the judge said.

My dad squeezed my hand and I walked down the aisle to the stand. I could see the judge surveying me as I walked. As I strode past Mr. Goila, he was glaring at me, as if trying to extract a confession out of me by pure will.

I took my seat and waited for the judge to ask me a question. It seemed like he was taking control of the trial.

“Did you kill your brother?” he asked bluntly.

Way to get straight to the point. “No,” I answered, trying to look confident.

“Can you prove this?” the judge asked.

“Can you prove that I did it?” I sassed then immediately regretted it.

In my defense, I get snappy when I’m nervous.

The judge only raised his eyebrows and nodded at Mr. Goila to start his questioning.

 “Do you recognize this?” Mr. Goila picked up a picture and showed it to me.

It was a knife, a kitchen knife, to be exact. “Yes,” I answered. “It’s my kitchen knife.”

Mr. Goila smiled triumphantly. “It could have been the object to cut Mr. Williams, and his blood is on it. Your fingerprints are on it.”

People gasped as I rolled my eyes.

“It’s a kitchen knife,” I said incredulously. “I use it to cook. And James always cuts himself when he’s cooking. Ask my mom, it’s true.”

Mr. Goila’s smug smile faded when he saw everyone’s faces. This must have been the evidence he brought me to court on. It was pretty pathetic, if I do say so myself.

The rest of the trial went by pretty quick. My mom was questioned one more time and she agreed with me about James’ clumsiness around sharp objects. The jury went to a private room to discuss the case while the rest of us waited nervously.

Finally, the judge banged his gavel on his desk. “The jury finds Ms. Brielle Williams not guilty of first-degree murder,” he said.

I smiled in relief as my dad banged me on the back. Everyone else cheered and for a second I saw a path to Niall.

I surprised myself when I launched into Niall’s arms first. He hugged me tight while I buried my face in his chest and hugged his middle tight. It felt so right, being here and Niall holding me, protecting me from everything.

I came to my senses after about ten seconds and pulled away, running a hand through my hair nervously.

“Congratulations,” Niall said, smiling at me.

Since I’d hugged him, he looked more alive than he’d been in days.

“Thanks,” I replied, fiddling with my fingers.

“So are you-” Niall was cut off as my dad yelled my name.

I turned around and left him standing there in the middle of the court room, whatever he was going to say dying on his lips.

Niall’s P.O.V.

I thought for a second, after she hugged me, life would go back to the way it was before she got arrested. Apparently I was wrong, as she left before I could say more than one word to her. Damn. I need to go get a drink.

And that’s exactly where I went, walking out of the courthouse to the nearest bar, ready to lose myself in alcohol for the millionth time since Brielle left.

Brielle’s P.O.V.

“Congratulations,” my dad smiled at me.

“Thanks,” I said, smiling broadly. “I feel so free.”

We were just about to leave when the judge caught up to me.

“Ms. Williams,” he panted.

I turned. “Yes?”

“I just wanted to say congratulations,” he smiled. “And I’m sorry that you got pulled in this mess for such an inadequate reason.”

“Thank you,” I said. “It feels good.”

“Enjoy your freedom,” the judge said then left.

I smiled to myself at his word choice.  “Freedom,” I whispered. “I’m finally free.”  

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I know, I've been gone forever. Sorry. I'm not going to make excuses, I just didn't update on Tuesday and I was busy for the rest of the week. So here you go, Happy Easter, hope you have a good day. I'm packing for Easter! Yeah, I'm going to Florida for the next week. I might update, I don't know if I'll have time since I'm on vacation. I'll try, cause I owe you guys. :) Anyway, have a good day, please check out my update on CD Girl if you haven't already, that one was on Tuesday, I think, whoops. Anyway, have a good day!

Love ya!

-11tay99