Post by danahhh. on Jun 23, 2009 14:17:43 GMT -6
Security;;
A short story.
----
The courtroom felt cold, giving her arms goosebumps. She wanted to stand up and run. Run away.
But she couldn't. No, she was trapped.
She heard his voice and looked up. They had sent him to the front. They stared at eachother, a long, hard stare. All she wanted was to be in his arms again. No.
"Tell us the story," Lawyer Thomas told him. She shook her head, swallowing over and over again. She didn't want this. He didn't want this. They just wanted to be together.
But he had to. He took a deep breath and moved his gaze to the back wall.
"It was dark. We couldn't see anything. She told me her dad wasn't home, so we went to my place. Mr. Klinehart was there. When we walked through the door, we could smell the smoke in the air. He was holding a bottle in his hand, and his eyes were wild. He took another swig, set the bottle down, and punched me. She started screaming as I was being punched and kicked. He kept yelling in my ear that I would stay away from her. That she was his. And then she...." He swallowed. He continued. "He threw me against the wall, and I could see what was happening. I told her to 'swing like Ryan Weisner', her favorite baseball player." He watched her as she closed her eyes, remembering everything so clearly. "'Swing, baby. Swing.' She swung and it hit his back. He tumbled to the ground. She then hit him again. I could see my baby's anger coming out of her. All the things he ever did to her."
"What were those things?" The lawyer intterupted.
He looked at her shaking body. Her hair was messy. Her nose and cheeks were red from the crying. She couldn't run away. Shouldn't run away.
"Sir, if you don't reply, we're going to have to sentence you to contempt-"
"There's things I can say. There's things I cannot."
There was silence. This kind of silence was intense. This kind of silence shouldn't be heard again. Couldn't be heard again.
"Mr. Anthony. Did you get her pregnant?"
He watched as her head snapped up. The expression in her eyes made the tears come to him.
"No," He whispered.
"Is that a lie?" The lawyer asked.
They both felt tortured. Tortured and held against the wall until he replied.
Please don't. Please. I love you.
I have to. I'm sorry, baby. I love you too.
But the words choked him. He couldn't speak.
"Please reply, sir," the judge commanded sternly.
"No," He whispered once again.
The thoughts. The memories burned his chest and his mind.
"Court dismissed." He had zoned out the rest of the talking, and now he was being pulled up from his seat. She ran over to him, embracing him as if she couldn't stand the six yards away from him.
"I love you," she whispered, kissing his lips softly. He kissed her back.
----
Now, they both sat across from eachother. She had asked for him to be there. They sat side by side, both wishing to grab the other's hand.
"What, Ms Klinehart, did your father do to you?"
She swallowed, bit her lip, and sighed before replying. "He drank. All day. He....He never stopped. And when I would come home he would scream at me for being late....even when I was right on time. A couple days ago I caught him drinking and he started hitting me. Repeatedly."
"Where was your older brother?"
"He was at work."
"Where does he work?"
"Martin's."
"Okay. You may continue."
"He was hitting me when Wyatt walked in. He suddenly stopped and charged out the door."
"Did Wyatt do anything after that?"
"Yeah. He cleaned me up."
"Why do you suppose your father disliked Wyatt?"
She shrugged. "Probably because he was jealous of how much Wyatt and I loved eachother."
"What happened to your mother?"
"He killed her."
The detective looked puzzled. "Why would he still have custody over you?"
"Because he did it ten years ago. He shot her and dumped her body in the ocean. He told me last week. He lied to me when I asked what happened to mama. He told me she left. I believed him."
"Has he always drank?"
"Yes."
The detective shoveled her papers up and closed her notepad.
"Thank you for your time." She smiled, tapped his hand, and walked out the door.
"I love you, Wyatt," she whispered.
"I love you too, Cyan," he whispered back. They stood up and he held her in his strong, secure arms. "You're safe now."
---
Thanks for reading. x]
A short story.
----
The courtroom felt cold, giving her arms goosebumps. She wanted to stand up and run. Run away.
But she couldn't. No, she was trapped.
She heard his voice and looked up. They had sent him to the front. They stared at eachother, a long, hard stare. All she wanted was to be in his arms again. No.
"Tell us the story," Lawyer Thomas told him. She shook her head, swallowing over and over again. She didn't want this. He didn't want this. They just wanted to be together.
But he had to. He took a deep breath and moved his gaze to the back wall.
"It was dark. We couldn't see anything. She told me her dad wasn't home, so we went to my place. Mr. Klinehart was there. When we walked through the door, we could smell the smoke in the air. He was holding a bottle in his hand, and his eyes were wild. He took another swig, set the bottle down, and punched me. She started screaming as I was being punched and kicked. He kept yelling in my ear that I would stay away from her. That she was his. And then she...." He swallowed. He continued. "He threw me against the wall, and I could see what was happening. I told her to 'swing like Ryan Weisner', her favorite baseball player." He watched her as she closed her eyes, remembering everything so clearly. "'Swing, baby. Swing.' She swung and it hit his back. He tumbled to the ground. She then hit him again. I could see my baby's anger coming out of her. All the things he ever did to her."
"What were those things?" The lawyer intterupted.
He looked at her shaking body. Her hair was messy. Her nose and cheeks were red from the crying. She couldn't run away. Shouldn't run away.
"Sir, if you don't reply, we're going to have to sentence you to contempt-"
"There's things I can say. There's things I cannot."
There was silence. This kind of silence was intense. This kind of silence shouldn't be heard again. Couldn't be heard again.
"Mr. Anthony. Did you get her pregnant?"
He watched as her head snapped up. The expression in her eyes made the tears come to him.
"No," He whispered.
"Is that a lie?" The lawyer asked.
They both felt tortured. Tortured and held against the wall until he replied.
Please don't. Please. I love you.
I have to. I'm sorry, baby. I love you too.
But the words choked him. He couldn't speak.
"Please reply, sir," the judge commanded sternly.
"No," He whispered once again.
The thoughts. The memories burned his chest and his mind.
"Court dismissed." He had zoned out the rest of the talking, and now he was being pulled up from his seat. She ran over to him, embracing him as if she couldn't stand the six yards away from him.
"I love you," she whispered, kissing his lips softly. He kissed her back.
----
Now, they both sat across from eachother. She had asked for him to be there. They sat side by side, both wishing to grab the other's hand.
"What, Ms Klinehart, did your father do to you?"
She swallowed, bit her lip, and sighed before replying. "He drank. All day. He....He never stopped. And when I would come home he would scream at me for being late....even when I was right on time. A couple days ago I caught him drinking and he started hitting me. Repeatedly."
"Where was your older brother?"
"He was at work."
"Where does he work?"
"Martin's."
"Okay. You may continue."
"He was hitting me when Wyatt walked in. He suddenly stopped and charged out the door."
"Did Wyatt do anything after that?"
"Yeah. He cleaned me up."
"Why do you suppose your father disliked Wyatt?"
She shrugged. "Probably because he was jealous of how much Wyatt and I loved eachother."
"What happened to your mother?"
"He killed her."
The detective looked puzzled. "Why would he still have custody over you?"
"Because he did it ten years ago. He shot her and dumped her body in the ocean. He told me last week. He lied to me when I asked what happened to mama. He told me she left. I believed him."
"Has he always drank?"
"Yes."
The detective shoveled her papers up and closed her notepad.
"Thank you for your time." She smiled, tapped his hand, and walked out the door.
"I love you, Wyatt," she whispered.
"I love you too, Cyan," he whispered back. They stood up and he held her in his strong, secure arms. "You're safe now."
---
Thanks for reading. x]