Right Side Up

Seven

After a week and a half of no particularly exciting days at court(I guess that's good), it is my turn to take the stand to testify against my father.

The prosecution thought putting me up there would help paint a picture of my mom for the jury. They say that among all of this slander the defense is putting out there about her, the people of the jury need to hear the truth from the person who knows her best.

They warned me about the kinds of questions they were going to ask me while I was on the stand. They told me I would have to retell the story of when I found out about my mom's death.

"Avery, please state your relationship to the victim." My lawyer paces the floor in front of me.

"She's my mother." I say simply.

"And can you tell the jury a little bit about your relationship with your mother please?"

"Sure. Um, well I loved her. I know every kid says that about their mom but her and I were really the best of friends. We did everything together. And losing her was honestly, is- is still the hardest thing that I have ever gone through." I try my best to explain. "I think about her every day."

"And can you tell the jury about the day she died?" He asks.

I take a deep breath and locate Tyler in the courtroom. He nods his head, knowing that I am searching for the strength to do this would crying.

"Well," I sigh, already feeling the lump in my throat creeping up. My voice cracks as I fight back tears. "My parents had always had a good relationship with the police who worked in our town. So one of them called me from the scene of the accident and told me to get down there immediately." I clear my throat and pick at my fingernails, still trying not to cry. "I'm sorry."

"That's okay. Take your time. I know this isn't easy for you." My lawyer nods.

I know that retelling the story is going to help our case. It will show the jury just how much she meant to me.

"I got down there and-" I bite my bottom lip. "And they had just pulled her body out of the lake. They had put her down on the pavement just as I got there." Flashes of the memory pop into my head. "She was dead. And she didn't even look like mom anymore. She just looked like a corpse."

"And then what happened?"

"I cried. I don't even remember how I got there but suddenly I was on the ground and my father was trying to help me back onto my feet but I just couldn't stand."

"And what would you say your father's reaction to the news was?"

"Well, he was pretty calm. I had assumed that it was because he had already gone through the sadness and wanted to be tough for me."

"But something changed your mind, didn't it?"

I nod. "The way he acted after the accident. He just didn't seem to care that she was gone. A day later, he told me about his secret family."

"Secret family?" He asks. The jury gasps as a collective group.

I nod. "I love them to death now and couldn't see my life without them. But I hated them when I first found out. I mean, I had five step-siblings that I never knew about. That's also when I found out my father had been cheating on my mother for the last fifteen years."

"Would you say you blamed them for your mother's death more or your father?"

"I blamed them all. I blamed everyone I could blame. I knew my mother would never do that to us. I blamed my father the most for driving her away from us. But I knew she would never kill herself."

"I have here a file of all the times you visited the police after your mother was killed. Six times to be exact. You wanted answers, didn't you?"

I nod. "I just didn't believe she killed herself. That's what everyone was saying but I knew there was more to the story than they were telling me."

My lawyer nods. "No more questions your honor."

The opposing side sends up its lawyer to cross examine me. "Avery, were you aware that your mother was depressed?"

I shake my head. "She wasn't depressed."

He nods. "I have a prescription here for anti-depressants. It is signed off on by her therapist. Can you tell me the name on the top there of who it was prescribed to?" He hands me the piece of paper.

I take it in my hands and read it. "It says Brittany Sweeney." I sit back in my chair, feeling defeated.

"So, since you didn't know this about your mother, is it possible that she was very depressed and chose on that day, to drive her car off of that bridge and end her life?" He asks. I can see the jury processing the information.

"No, she would never do that. She loved us. That isn't how it happened." I fight him. I'm not going to let him win.

"I'm only asking if it's possible she had thoughts to do it and you didn't know about it. Just like you didn't know about the depression."

I nod slowly. "I guess it is possible."

He smirks and glances over at my father. "Moving on, Hillary Greene was your step-mother, is that correct?"

I nod.

"Did you want your father to get married to her?"

I shrug. "I had mixed feelings about it. I knew she could never replace my mom but I really just wanted him to be happy."

"And isn't it true you hated her? You told police when investigating her death that you hated her."

"I hated them all. But I grew to love them all after a while." I admit.

"You loved some more than others though, didn't you?" He asks. "Romantically even?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" I angrily lean forward into the microphone.

"Is it possible you killed your step-mom so that the wedding wouldn't happen and you could be with one of your step-siblings?"

I shake my head. "That is absolutely absurd. Where did you get that kind of an idea from?"

He raises his hands in defense. "I'm just making sure the jury has the whole story. No further questions your honor."

"Hey wait! What is that supposed to mean?" I ask, wanting him to come back and explain himself.

"Miss, please leave the witness booth." The judge whispers to me.

"But I'm not finished with him."

"That's not how this works. I won't ask you again dear, please exit the booth." Her tone is a little more serious this time.

"But-"

"Now." Her eyes are stern.

I turn to look at the crowd. All of their eyes are on me. I stand and exit the booth, wanting to melt into the carpet and disappear forever.

I push on the door to enter the crowd and keep walking until I am out of the room completely.

I need to get out of here.