Week One Challenge One

“Clive was on the far side of a green pond, torturing a king-crested newt.”

“Was this something that Clive often did?” asked the prosecutor.

“Define often,” I chuckled, hoping to get the same from at least a couple other people in the room, but it was dead quiet. I think everyone may have even stopped breathing, if only momentarily.

I realized that my answer had not been sufficient for the prosecutor and that he and everyone else were staring at me, awaiting an honest answer. “I saw him do it maybe three or four times since I had known him, but I really don’t see how my witnessing him torture a tiny lizard would have anything to do with him murdering that boy, if he even did that.”

“I’ve heard enough,” said Judge Hackett, “This court will meet again tomorrow, same time of course.” Judge Hackett was one of those people who have to state the obvious, because they are so nervous someone may, down the road, blame them for the omission, even though we had been in the same court room at the same time for a week now. He said it every single day.

I swiftly pushed open the glass door to the government building with my shoulder, and flew down the stairs, getting to my car in what had to be record time. The time that I had spent in the courtroom over the past week had really taken a toll on me, mainly because it had almost nothing to do with me, yet the prosecutor acted as though the fate of the universe was in my testimony. The whole legal matter was because of a boy I used to play with in my youth, he was one of my neighbors, but now, as a grown adult he had supposedly killed a young boy, although the boy was technically an adult, at eighteen years old.

I started my car and put it in gear, heading towards Paddy’s Bar, the only place that really helps to ease the stress after these long, meaningless days in court.