The courtroom of the First Instance Criminal Court has been witness to numerous trials from simple thievery to controversial ones involving high-profile personalities. Its four walls have heard verdicts from a mere forty- to two-hundred-hour community service to death penalties that made the guilty either pass out or burst into tears.

Barricaded with an ornate, waist-high wooden gate that has a short swinging panel in the middle, the vast expanse is divided into two uneven sections. At the front of the gate are two tables – one each for the prosecution and defense teams – and behind them, are rows of benches for the other attendees, who should dress properly and act in a civil decorum while there is a session or suffer an untimely imprisonment and unbudgeted fine. On the opposite side of the gate is the grand panel that has the desk for the judge whose shiny gavel on top of it commands obedience to everyone inside the room. Directly in front of the judge's bench is the space for the Clerk Of Court and the Stenographer - two minor roles in the trial process, yet the proceeding will not move anywhere without either of them. On its left is the witness' stand, whose seat offers more pressure than comfort to virtually anyone invited to sit on it.

Lawyer Kokliang Parinya Angsanan and his client sit at the table for the defendant's table, waiting for the judge to arrive. This, however, is not a usual hearing of accused against accuser: today's is of amnesty grants – one's ticket to be free because of parole.

"Are you okay there?" asked Kokliang to his client, who is tapping floor with his heel in a pace that could give a decent beat to a fast-paced song.

"Jitters. What usually happens here?" asked the guy back, clad in orange prison clothes.

"Just relax. You will be asked a few questions and regaled on what you did while serving your sentence."

"Any tips on how I will answer?" The guy stops his feet-tapping and looks at his lawyer.

"Answer directly; don't speak unless you are spoken to; don't explain your answer unless you are told to; tell the truth; that's it." Kokliang ends with a playful smirk to somehow help cheer up his client.

The guy nods. "Will I be free after this?" he asked after, looking for assurance.

"It's up to the judge. Don't worry; they are fair; based on the warden's evaluation on you, except for a few incidents of answering back bluntly to jail guards, I think you did great while inside."

"They ask questions that have obvious answers." The guy shrugs.

"Don't ever do that to the judge, or you'll be sent back inside in a heartbeat. Address him as Your Honor too."

"Copy that." Kokliang's client sways his head and looks back at the front.

Right after, the door on the far left of the wall behind the judge's bench swings open, and out comes a man holding two folders, both of which have a puncher clip, which holds papers stacked one after another. His name is Perth Tanapon Sukhumpantanasan – the Clerk Of Court.

Wearing a wireless microphone the size of a thumb that is pointed to his mouth, Perth takes a few strides until he is visible to everyone inside the courtroom. At the sight of him, everyone settles to their seats.

"All rise; the honorable Judge Marut Ghoummeddin presiding over," announced Perth, his voice echoing throughout the room.

At the sound of his name, the magistrate walks out from the same door that Perth used, a deafening silence greeting him. When he reaches his seat, he momentarily looks at his crowd, then said, "This court is now session. Proper decorum is observed henceforth until we are adjourned." He ends by hitting the gavel with a mallet, turning his statement into law. He sits afterwards, to which the others, except Perth, follow. "Agenda?" asked Judge Marut, turning to his Clerk Of Court. He never hesitates to put into contempt anyone who calls him by his nickname Chahub while he is presiding over a trial.

"Three parole hearings this morning, Your Honor, then a plunder case at 2 p.m."

"Okay. Call out the first case." Judge Marut faces the front again after.

Kokliang gives his client a tap on the shoulder, as if telling him to get ready.

"Parole Hearing for Criminal Case number CRIM-2021-914567-A," said Perth, enunciating each letters, numbers, and punctuation fully. "The people versus Worakamon Satur – found guilty of Grave Public Misdemeanor and violation of Anti-Lewd and Obscenity Act."

"Are Mister Satur and his counsel present in this room?" asked the judge, looking at both the prosecution's and defense's desk one at a time.

"Yes, Your Honor, we are here," answered Kokliang as he stands up. His client follows suit immediately after him. "I am Parinya Angsanan, the legal counsel of Mister Satur," he continued, pointing the man next to him using his palm.

"Please approach the bench," told Judge Marut. Perth gives him the papers for the case and proceeds to sit beside the Stenographer.

Walking towards the front of the judge, Kokliang's client feels a lurch in his tummy as if a tsunami has just displaced the acid inside it. As he and his attorney stop about a step away from the panel, he gets hit with the feeling of being the most inferior creature walking the planet, being looked down from above by people he does not know, yet whose decision may mean freedom or imprisonment. He takes some deep breaths as Judge Marut scans the papers he was given.

"Please state your name for the record," said Judge Marut, looking at the felon.

"My name Jeff Worakamon Satur."

Judge Marut raises an eyebrow at the response. This prompts Kokliang to give a slight elbow to Jeff's side being standing close to each other.

"Oh. Apologies," quickly retorted Jeff, shaking his head upon realizing a mistake. "Good morning, Your Honor. My name is Jeff Worakamon Satur."

Kokliang closes his eyes as he takes a heave, feeling embarrassed for what his client has done. He shakes his head as stealthily as he can so as not to get the judge's attention.

"Good morning. Mister Satur, the purpose of these parole hearings is for us to assess your future plans, if ever you'll be released, and the likelihood of you committing any offense considering that you now have a criminal history. Do you understand?" asked Judge Marut.

"Yes, Your Honor." Jeff feels like he has just been inducted to a Hall Of Shame.

"Is this the first time that you've been convicted of a crime, Mister Satur?"

Jeff clenches his jaw, making his teeth grind. Lucky for him, only he can hear it. "Yes, Your Honor," he answered after. He puts his hands on his back, bending and stretching the shaking fingers as much as the joints would allow.

"Mister Satur, I see that you have no criminal record before this. Can you help me understand why you committed these crimes? Was there a reason you chose to do these?"

"No, Your Honor. There was no reason why I did what those papers tell you," Jeff answered, to which gets another elbow on his side from his attorney.

Judge Marut looks at Kokliang after seeing what the lawyer did, deciding which one to sight for Contempt Of Court. "Then why did you do it, Mister Satur?" he asked, looking back to the person whose amnesty is on the line.

Closing his eyes, Jeff presses his teeth against each other again, shaking his head as he tries to contain himself from blurting it out to the judge. His emotions seem to have made him miss the question.

"Mister Satur?" asked Judge Marut after a full minute has passed without hearing a response.

"I just went to a bar to have a couple of drinks. Next thing I knew, I was in my car - in a state of stupor - on top of another man, and we both don't have our clothes on. I didn't do it on my own free will: I was under the influence," recalled Jeff, irked at the embarrassment from what had happened.

"If you are to be released, Mister Satur, is it likely that you will do that same thing considering that you already did it before?"

"What I did was a mistake, Your Honor – a mistake that cost me everything. I learned my lesson the hard way and wouldn't even attempt to do a repeat of it."

"What would you do, Mister Satur, if ever I sign your release today?"

Jeff struggles to speak as his thoughts scramble to find an answer. He has to weigh his response properly: it is not something that will impress or disappoint Judge Marut but something just enough to tip the scale on his favor.

"Mister Satur." Judge Marut deliberately misses the interrogative intonation at the end being it the second time that he calls out Jeff for taking too long to answer.

"I lost four-hundred and sixty-six days of my life, Your honor, as well as someone I love. I will want to get them back one day at time," answered Jeff earning a satisfied smile from Kokliang.

Picking up his pen after hearing the answer, Judge Marut signs on the dotted line of the first page of the paper in front of him.

Seeing this, however, doesn't make Jeff ecstatic because, as Kokliang explained to him earlier, there are two spots at the bottom where a judge can sign: one reads Granted, while the other Denied. At the moment, he couldn't tell where the judge is putting on his signature.

More than an hour after his Q and A with Judge Marut, Jeff finds himself walking a corridor, wearing an outfit that he has not worn for quite a while – pants, shirt, and sneakers. On his left is a jail guard, and on his right is his counsel. When they reach a desk at the end, which is the last impedance blocking his freedom, Kokliang gives a folder full of papers to another guard that is stationed there.

"How does it feel to be out?" asked Kokliang once they are out of the penitentiary facility, and who seems more ecstatic than his client.

"Resolute. Willing." Jeff looks around, trying to adapt to this new view that his eyes are seeing.

"Weird answer, but, still, congratulations," said Kokliang, extending a hand out to Jeff, who shakes it without hesitation. "What will you do now?"

"I think this is day one of my taking back the four-hundred and sixty-six that I lost."

"You don't seem to have someone to pick you up," said Kokliang, taking back his hand. "I can give you a lift."

"Yeah. I didn't tell my family about this because I wanted to surprise them."

"Where to, then?"

"Thonglor."

As they walk towards Kokliang's car – a Mini Countryman of celeste color – all Jeff can think about are Tonhorm, Longlee, and Thunder: three of the four most important persons to him now more than ever.

------

Author's Note

Here it is - the first chapter in the story. Jeff was almost put back in his cell because of how he answered the judge hahaha :)

Now that he's out of jail. How will Jeff get his life back? What will he do now that he has returned to civilization. Stay tuned for the release of the next chapter - Haven - in the following days.

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