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Emily


3
“Judy!” Cindy's voice goes cold for a moment, “Can you please stop staring at
his—“
Whatever respects the judge and spectators had for me, slim to none, I lose within
seconds of Cindy opening her mouth. My eyes begin to run with water and my face
muscles become sore from laughter. I should probably listen to her, but I don't let anyone
try to control me. I will do what I want. I've been on this stand for so long that it's only
become a game. There isn't anything I can do to get myself out of here since I'm the only
suspect, and until they dig up some more evidence to prove that I'm guilty I'm just going
to end up back in my cell.
“Out! Get her out!”, the judge strikes his gavel on the stands. “I want her out of my
courtroom!” Furious with hot rage, the red-faced tomato ostracizes me from the
courtroom, refusing to deal with my shenanigans any longer.
In a quick march, the officers, in their black and blue too-tight-for-jelly-belly
outfits pick me off the stand like an ant from a picnic table. The thirty seconds they drag
me from the courtroom are mine. Everyone's staring at me waiting to see what I'm gonna
do next. Scream, kick, and throw a fit? Say a smart ass comment to someone who called
me a „crazy bitch'? Maniacally laugh the whole way out or cry like the innocent person
that I truly am? I hear the silence grow and see the venom-spitting mandibles hit the
ground as I appear to calmly exit the room of haters and disbelievers.
Glad that's over. Now all I want is to sit in my heatless, heartless cell. But I know I
have at least an hour yet, an hour that will go faster than the years I have spent in that
courtroom the past several months. The group of oversized jelly bellies, who ate one too
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