The Pit

Chapter 1 - Trial

Bright florescent lights shine down on us, putting spots into my vision as we walk, there are a few doors we pass. I keep thinking we will turn into one of them, but we keep going, passing a door on the left, then the right, another on the right and so on.

As we continue, no natural light penetrates the hallway because the hall seems to be absent of windows. This hallway is just as boring as detective Tate. Finally, detective Tate tugs on my handcuffs and we come to a complete stop.

To the left of us are two brown double doors with golden looking, swirly handles. Tate reaches around me and pulls open one of the large wooden doors.

On the other side of the large door are seats filled with people behind a three foot railing that looks to be made out of the same wood as the door. Just in front of that railing, two plain tables are stationed on opposite sides of the room. At the far table a man is sitting, likely the person who is trying to put me in jail and at the other table is my attorney, standing up and waiting for me.

Behind the table I stumble to, is my family, right behind the railing. I walk with slow, deliberate steps into the room, careful to avoid looking directly at my family, and all faces turn to me, many look in disgust and hatred. Others simply stare at me.

I reach my table and stand behind my chair, which is just as plain as the table, ignoring all of the people behind me.

"There she is," they whisper. "She is sure to be guilty for what she did to her friends."

"Order, order." Judge Samuel yells, while he bangs his gavel three times to quiet the room. The room goes quiet, everybody is waiting in anticipation. "Quiet everyone. Sit down, please."

I sit down quietly never turning around, not facing the people gathered behind me, always looking ahead. Everyone is now sitting except for the two stone like guards in the corner. "Jury, may we please hear your decision."

I look to the right of me, across the room, past the stranger in the table opposite of me, and there is the jury, sitting, with hands folded in their laps.

Not one person stands out in the three rows that they sit in, all old, and straight faced. The one in the far bottom, closest to the judge stands. He looks to be about sixty five with all of the hair on the top of his head gone, but a tiny bit of hair around the outside of his skull. Wrinkles surround his mouth and eyes, whenever he lifts his eyebrows, rows of wrinkles inhabit his forehead.

His mouth begins to move as he states my sentence. "We hereby declare Tereska Evans guilty of the murder of Peri Topeka in the second- degree and for the murder of Michaela Ross in the second- degree."

At first, no one makes a sound. It's silent, and then everyone starts talking at once, sounds of happiness, and noises of grief pierce the silence.

There are those certain few who remain still, quiet, and calm as if it was expected. I am one of those silent people. I expected to be convicted and there is nothing to say. I look straight ahead at the judge afraid to peak behind me at my family, mostly because of the dream I had just before I was forced into this room.

It's no use, I can hear an unfamiliar sound coming from my mother, no doubt she is crying. Underneath that noise is a deep, comforting sound of my father, trying to comfort my mother.

Next to them is an icy, cold silence radiating off my brother. I cannot bear to turn my head, unable to face them.

"Order in the court. Order." Judge Samuel yells, his voice echoing off of the walls along with his gavel and he hits it to quiet the room. "Okay. Tereska Evans, please stand for your sentencing." Judge Samuel says more quietly now.