(Rewritten)  

No amount of TV shows and movies can prepare me for the icy reality around me. Sitting in a court room, awaiting the trial of a brother who has been arrested on charges of murder.

Twining my frozen hands together, I smooth down my black pencil skirt before settling my hands on top. My head jerks up at the sound of a door being thrown open. The many people in the room gradually hush at the sight of Rick being led in by a cop. Handcuffs are fastened tightly to his wrists and his gait is hindered by bindings that are just visible around his ankles. Reporters who are scattered around the room immediately perk up. Notepads and pens at the ready.

Gripping the sides of the bench on which I'm sitting, my head spins as my parents suck in a breath from beside me. Looking around, I'm stunned to find accusation in everyone's eyes. As though they've already condemned Rick.

Rick glances around the court room, his movement jerky and panicked, muscles bunched up as he walks. The gray suit hanging off him strains slightly against his chest as he takes a deep breath. The dark circles under his eyes are visible from where I sit. I frown seeing what looks like faded bruises ringing his neck. When his tired eyes finally latch onto mine, I find relief in his as tears gather in mine.

I'm confused and frown. Does he really think I would abandon him at a time like this?

Before I can contemplate this any further, I jump slightly as a man's raised voice booms, echoing around the room.

"All rise for the honorable Judge Myers."

A solemn looking man strides into the room. His black judge's cape billows out behind him. A harsh scowl mars his face and I gulp. From the corner of my eye I catch sight of Rick who's sitting stiffly next to his lawyer.

The man is supposed to be the best in the state of Indiana, though I'd overheard my dad saying that this is his last case before he retires.

I couldn't care less as long as he does his job, and keeps my brother out of prison.

The room takes a seat along with the judge before Judge Myers speaks.

"The murder of Allan Waters, Mr. Alston you may speak." His gavel comes crashing down and I feel my chest constrict as my breathing becomes shallow.

This is real. My brother really is being put on trial for murder.

The man seated on the other side of the room stands, his bald head shining in the dim overcast lights.

"Mr. Ortega vs Ms.Waters. Mr. Richard Ortega has been accused on account of first degree murder, the victim being Allan Waters. As many know murder is a capital offense here in the state of Indiana."

Rick's lawyer stands now, a determined look on his face as he speaks to the judge.

"Your honor, my client has no record of a criminal past or any motive to have wanted to harm Mr.Waters." Mr. Alston cuts in at this point, a merciless glint in his eye as he stares down his opponent.

"Yet Mr.Duran, there is hard evidence which was found at the scene of the crime, tying Mr. Ortega to the scene. Fingerprints matching your client's were found on the murder weapon." He holds up a clear plastic bag in which a gun is encased.

I suck in a breath at the sight. Fingerprints on a murder weapon is hard evidence to look past.

Mr. Duran clutches his hands in front of him calmly. "Your honor, once again my client had no motive. No reason to wish ill upon Mr.Waters. Mr. Ortega is a respected law student, top of his class at Harvard."

Judge Myers face is a composed blank sheet as though this information means nothing. I glance to the jurors and am astonished to find a similar vacant look in all twelve of their eyes. Shifting, I frown at the lack of emotion, there should be at least some sign of something. A hint of fear at being in the same room as an accused murderer. A smudge of anxiousness at having to determine the fate of another human being. A look of agreement as the lawyer's build their cases.

Nothing.

Mr.Alston's lips twitch into what seems to almost be a smirk, as though he's ready to celebrate a victory. He gestures to the audience with a slim hand.

"I call Victoria Chandler forth as a witness."

A young woman in her early twenties stands, smoothing down her short skirt, she adjusts her blouse. As she walks to the witness stand, Rick sucks in a breath that's clearly audible over the silence that has fallen. I'm confused until I catch sight of the horror and recognition that darkens Rick's face.

Oh my god. He knows her, and she's supposed to be a witness.

My gaze is drawn back to the woman, Victoria, who's taken a seat. She looks ten times more dangerous than from moments before. Her words hold the power to deliver the final blow and truly condemn Rick.

She places her right hand on a bible which is held out to her by the clerk who I only now notice is present.

"I swear that the evidence that I shall give, shall be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God." Repeating the oath, she drops her hand and the clerk retreats to the corner of the room. She begins to fidget, her hand reaching up to smooth down her already immaculately done hair. Mr. Alston stands confidently before Judge Myers and turns to face Victoria who pales slightly at the attention.

Hands clasped firmly behind his back, glasses pushed up his long nose, Mr. Alston nods his head at Victoria.

"Ms. Chandler, if you would please relate to the judge and jury what it was you witnessed on the night of Mr.Waters murder."

She clears her throat, before her lips move in a whisper. An unsure expression crosses her face as she raises her voice enough to be heard.

"I-I was going partying with a few friends and I had a-a few drinks. We were walking home a-and I was kind of behind so I told everyone that I would catch up with them. I-I stumbled into an alley and then there are a few blanks, but all I remember is him."

She points a long red polished nail at Rick, who's back is stiff from shock. Continuing she gains confidence as she speaks, her voice no longer stuttering.

"He was holding a gun and a man was in the alley a few yards away smoking. The man looked familiar but I only realized later that it was Mr.Walters."

Mr. Alston holds up a small picture to Victoria.

"This was the man you saw smoking in the alleyway correct?" She nods, twisting her hands, and my heart drops.

How is this possible?

Rick has never held a gun in his life and he would never shoot someone. Wait. She said that she's had a few drinks! Maybe she's just recalling things wrong and those blanks in her memory she mentioned may have the answers.

I'm tempted to jump up and shout this out, but Mr.Duran beats me to it.

Spectacles balanced on the tip of his nose, crumpled papers in his gently wrinkled hands, he strides closer to Judge Myers.

"Your honor, with all due respect, this young lady here," He gestures to a glaring Victoria before continuing. "Was very likely under the influence during her so called encounter, and she herself admitted that her memory of what occurred has blanks. There may very well be a mistake in the recount of what took place that night."

Mr. Alston intercedes at this point, hands clenched, lined marring his forehead. "Does your client have an alibi?"

Oh no, the alibi. Or in this case the non-existent one.

There's only silence and Mr. Alston sends a frigid smile towards Mr. Duran. "Your client's fingerprints were found on the murder weapon, that along with Ms. Chandler's account sets forth a very strong case against Mr. Ortega."

Mr. Duran stutters unable to find a suitable response. I want to take off one of my useless heels and throw it at his thick head.

Say something!

A frozen hand clasps my wrist, and I try to calm down, unable to look at my mom's stricken face. When Mr. Duran's silence continues, Judge Myers folds his hand in front of himself, speaking loudly.

"If both sides have finished delivering their arguments, the jury will come to a decision."

Still no one speaks as the twelve jurors are led out of the room. I frown at that, isn't the court supposed to adjourn so that the jury can make the decision? Dismissing my suspicions, I focus on Rick who's rubbing his face and shaking his head. My heart clenches. As the minutes tick by, each is more agonizingly longer than the last.

The doors open admitting the jurors back into the room. They walk calmly to their seats, the blank looks still present on their faces. Blank. Like robots who have been programmed to complete a single task.

A shiver makes it's way down my spine as the clerk present in the room finally speaks. "Will the jurors please answer as their names are called."

As each name is called out, a resounding 'guilty' is the reply received from every one of the jurors. After the entire jury has provided their answer, the clerk nods fidgeting with the notebook and pen in his thin hands. He turns to one of the men sitting calmly at the head of the jury.

"Mr.Foreman, have you agreed upon a verdict?" The foreman glares and it's the first glimpse of emotion I catch in the sea of blank faces.

"Yes, we have." His glare turns towards the crowd and his eyes latch onto mine for a brief moment. My heart lurches at the shrewd look he sends my way.

"How say you?" The clerk cocks his head, elegant pen prepared to record the answer on paper.

The foreman sniffs as though with disdain. "We, the jury, find Richard Ortega guilty as charged."

Slumping back against the sturdy wooden bench, a ragged breath escapes my chapped lip. I set my head in my icy hands, unable to process the rest of the words exchanged between the clerk and the foreman.

My mom lets out an almost silent sob from beside me and my dad puts a comforting arm around her shaking shoulders, his own face grave.

Judge Myers clears his throat before speaking. "The verdict, Mr. Richard Ortega, guilty as charged." His gavel comes pounding down, the sound cuts through the silence around the room like a crack of thunder.

A man stands up and I briefly wonder who he is before I hear a woman behind me whisper 'prosecutor'.

The prosecutor straightens, his suit hanging off his stick thin form. His eyes narrow as he prepares to speak.

"First degree murder is a capital offense here in the state of Indiana, and with respect to the verdict, Mr. Ortega is hereby sentenced to life in prison, no parole, and a possible death penalty, which is to be determined by a grand jury at a later date." He sits, having delivered his part and crosses his long spidery legs.

I want to scream, cry, do something. Anything I can do keep this from being the final word.

"Court adjourned." Judge Myers gavel comes pounding down for the last time. The officer grasps Rick's arm and he's led from the room immediately. I try to meet Rick's gaze but he looks at the ground, shuffling his feet towards the exit.

I jump up, desperation running through me. I'm ready to go and kick down the stocky officer, take Rick and run to Canada, consequences be damned.

But even as these rash thoughts run through my mind, my feet stay rooted to the ground. Before Rick is dragged through the exit, one last look at his face reveals an almost invisible tear which tracks its way down his pale cheek.

And with that tear, the judge's previous words echo in my head.

Guilty as charged.