Mervyn POV:
"Ladies and gentlemen, noble jury, our esteemed magistrate, good morning. We are here today to discuss..." Mik's lawyer launched into her opening speech. She seemed to know what she was doing. Boswell, I think. Mik had told me her name. I think that was it.
To be honest, I wasn't paying much attention to the trial. We were all here, but it was more for moral support than anything else. Mik was sitting in the front. I couldn't even see her face, but I knew how small and scared she must have been feeling. She didn't seem to be paying attention to the trial, either, just staring straight ahead of her, trying not to look at her father or her father's lawyer or anything else that might shake her at this point. The case seemed to drag on, back and forth, back ad forth. The defense lawyer was trying to get the case postponed, pleading that the man was crazy, clearly in no state to be tried.
"I call my first and only witness to the stand- the victim, Mikelah Grace." Mikelah stood up and hobbled awkwardly to the stand. She was wearing a pair of heels much higher than she was accustomed to. Mik had this thing in her head about looking grown-up for the trial, and she looked a little ridiculous, even if I'd never tell her so. She bit on her lip for a second and took a deep breath to force down the nerves.
"The man on trial, Jonothan Grace, is my father. I have been living with him my whole life." She forced a sigh into the microphone, as if she were trying to stop herself from doing something stupid. "My mother, Marlene Carrell-Grace, died a little over 4 years ago, in April 2007. I was only- I was 13 or 14 years old.My father's behaviour changed immediately. He became distant. He quit his job. He started smoking, drinking and gambling. He has been b-beating me regularly since December of that year." Her voice shook a little. She regained her composure and continued. "A few months later- I'm sorry, I can't remember the dates- he raped me. The first time of many similar rapes. This September, the 8th to be exact, I found out that I was pregnant. I've never slept with anyone else, never had sex of my own free will, so I'm fairly certain that he is the father."
She tugged on her collar a little, and blinked hard a few times. She looked at the ground- she was nervous. Her dad was in the courtroom, after all. "I don't want a large settlement. I'm not in this for money. I don't want child support. I can work, I can take care of my child myself. All I want is for him to be locked up far, far away, so he can't hurt us anymore."
"Thank you. That's all."
With this, Miss Boswell ended her case, and the defence lawyer began. He was trying to prove that the man was clearly not in a fit state of mind to be tried. He argued that he had fits of insane rage, and it was due to some brain damage, or chemical imbalance, or something or other (I wasn't really listening), and could not be blamed for what he had done. It was a disgusting way to defend horrible behavior, but there was no way to plead innocent now. There was a character witness, to testify that he had never really been right, (it's a strange case where the defensive stance is to talk badly about the defendant) and a bit of evidence.
"I'd like to call the first witness back to the stand."
Mik paled. I saw her shrink. She wasn't prepared, but she didn't refuse. Slowly, shakily, she walked back up, shooting her lawyer a frantic 'What now?' look. But she calmed herself for the questions to start.
"You said that your father only began to abuse you after your mother died, isn't that so?" the lawyer asked. Mik nodded. "And how did he behave before that?"
She thought a while. "Well... better. He was kind, and sweet... my hero."
"So you believe the change in behaviour was caused by your mother's death?"
"I didn't say that," She snapped, "but yes."
"And how did your mother die?"
Mik hesitated. "S-suicide, I believe."
"I see." The lawyer paced for a second. "And did you do anything to cause the beatings?"
"Excuse me?" Mik snapped. "Are you asking me if I think I deserved to be beaten?"
"No, not at all. I'm asking you if there were triggers."
Mik's eyes slid over to the table where her father was still sitting, tensed and looking quite prepared to jump up and attack, even if they were in court. "Well..." she floundered, "... there was alcohol.. if he drank. Once he was drunk... it could be anything.... If I broke something, or the house wasn't clean enough.... Talking back...."
I could barely hear the last part, and she listed a few things after that that I couldn't hear at all. The lawyer, apparently, wasn't done there.
"Would you mind describing for us one of his episodes?"
And here it was- the deer in the headlights look. The one that showed quite clearly that she would rather take another beating right then and there than answer the question. "Umm, it's... Usually, it.. he comes home late." she mumbled, eyes glued to the floor. "I don't know why. I don't know where he goes. To the bar, I suppose." she batted her eyes, swallowed hard, took a deep breath. "Well, he comes home, and I- I do something, I don't know. I- I drop something and make a m-mess, or I don't... don't clean up well, or- or I... I don't know. I get him mad.." She batted her eyes again- trying to prevent the tears from taking over. "Then his face turns red- bright, bright red. And he shouts. Usually... usually he swears at me. And then, of course... the b... beating. Wh-whatever's in his hand... a bottle, once, a broken one... broomstick, sometimes just his bare hand. D-doesn't matter. Leaves bruises anyway. S-sometimes cuts. He d-doesn't stop till I cry. A-and sometimes, when- when I've gone up to my room, he'll, he'll follow me, and- and, and lock the door..."
Her voice broke there, and without being dismissed, she got up, kicking off her shoes, and ran out of the courtroom. Meggie got up too, and went outside after her.
There was a pause. Miss Boswell glanced at the door that Mikelah left through. "Shall... we continue?"
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Mik POV:
"Mikkie?" Meggie called, and I heard her footsteps approaching. "Mik? Are you in here?"
"No." I mumbled from inside the bathroom stall. Meggie walked up to the door, and after hesitating, I opened it and stepped out.
"Mikkie, honey, are you okay?" she asked, and scooped me up in a huge hug. I sat down on the counter. It was big enough to hold me.
I wiped my eyes. "Y-yeah. I'm fine."
"You sure?" she pressed a little harder, looking straight at me with that soul-searching sort of look. I nodded.
"I couldn't handle it, okay? It was just, my dad watching and I don't know, I've practiced the story a million times and I just cracked under the pressure and..."
"I get it." she said. We sat down for some time, while I waited for the anxiety to die down.
"Meggie, do you want to talk about something?" I asked her. Meggie gave me that look she uses sometimes.
"Me?" she snorted. "I'm not the one who just ran out of the courtroom crying." She elbowed me in the ribs.
"I just need a minute." I then tried to give her my best soul-searching look in return. "But I don't think you're okay. What's bothering you?"
And then I saw her attitude change. She looked away. She squirmed. "It's nothing." she mumbled, and the blood rushed to her face.
There it was. Her mom. All of us 'knew about it', in the most basic sense that you can use the term 'knew', but she had never, ever, spoken about it. Not even, I fear, to her dad. Not even when she just went and cut half her hair off and we pushed her as hard as we could to get her to admit that it was a problem for her. Meggie was the strong one, the balanced one, the one we went to when we had a problem, not the other way around. "Meggie, I'd hate for you to think that you have to repress your problems just because I have stuff going on. If you keep pretending everything's okay, I'm going to assume that's what you're doing and feel terrible about myself."
With that I offered her my best puppy-dog eyes, which are almost definitely better than my best soul-searching look. Meggie glared instead. "Think what you like. I'm not going to talk about it because I don't. Want. To."
"Do you remember a few months ago, when I didn't want to talk about my dad?" I didn't wait for her to answer that one. "You don't have to talk to me, you know. You can talk to anyone, as long as it's off your chest. I used to talk to a teddy bear, and it actually made me feel better. You could go to my therapist. I'm sure she wouldn't mind if I switched out one of my sessions."
Meggie smiled, a distant sort of smile. "You need them more than I do, babe."
"Meggie...." I begged, "Talk to me. I won't tell anyone. It's just us. Please, talk to me."
Meggie put her face in her hands and let out a sigh through her fingers. "I don't want to talk about it... I don't want to think about it. It's just a big giant mess and I want it as far from my mind as possible."
"If you have a bad taste in your mouth, you spit it out." I said. "Swallowing it back down won't help anyone." Meggie didn't answer, but I could tell she was considering it. "Are you afraid that I'll take advantage of you if you let me see your weak points?"
"No, of course not." And that was the truth. Meggie trusted her friends wholeheartedly. I knew that. I would have to have done a whole lot of bad to her for her to even conceive the idea that I would take advantage of her.
"Can we start with something easy, then?" I pressed. She nodded, barely perceptibly, nervous. "Why did you cut your hair?"
She ran a hand through it. "You know how much I look like my mom, right? And.. the one thing I wished for the most was her long hair. And I never realised that I was trying to copy her until recently." she sighed. "I just decided that I don't want it anymore. Any of it. Any of her."
I nodded. "Mhm, okay." I filed that away mentally. "How are you taking it all?"
Meggie frowned. "I don't know. I just don't understand why any of this is happening." I was glad that she'd made the decision to talk to me. "I mean, I thought she was happy with me and Dad. I thought we were an okay family. I guess... I always knew it was a little tense with Mom and Dad sometimes, but I thought they were fixing it. I didn't think she was so unhappy with us that she'd just go. And... and where'd she run to? What's she going to gain in Georgia that makes it so easy for her to go halfway across the country?"
"Okay." I levelled. "It seems to me that you're feeling a little insecure, right? You're wondering if somehow you weren't good enough for her?" Meggie replied with a very, very slow, careful nod. I wasn't much good at this, but I knew that one therapy technique was to rephrase and repeat what the person was saying. It helps you to understand better hearing it from a different person. What's she going to gain in Georgia... "Wait, Meggie, are you afraid that she's replaced you with a new family- a better one?"
She didn't answer. "Why did you cry?" she suddenly asked. I was taken aback, to say the least.
"Huh?"
"I mean, why? What was going through your head?"
"I-I.. I just couldn't do it." I mumbled.
"Because he was there watching you? Were you scared of him? Or was the memory too painful?"
I hadn't considered that. "I- I..."
We were interrupted. "I looked everywhere for you two!"
Meggie let out a sort of nervous laugh, and glanced at herself in the mirror. "Hi Hazel." she mumbled. "We'll be out in a minute. Just fixing Mik's face back."
"Oh, never mind that!" Hazel exclaimed. "You won the case!"
"What?" I felt numb. My brain didn't process it. "I won?"
"Yes! The judge ruled in your favour. He's gonna be put away for a long time."
"No way..." I breathed. I wasn't sure if it was a happy or a sad sound yet. And then I started to cry. I don't know why I started to cry, but when I did, I couldn't stop. Meggie enveloped me in another hug, and I cried onto her chest. I just cried and cried, and something told me to stop crying because I was ruining her shirt, but I couldn't stop.
"Shh, it's okay." Meggie whispered, hugging me and rocking me while I cried. "Everything's gonna be all right."
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Meggie POV:
It was another regular day of school. Well, almost. There was a little tension, a little excitement in the air. Votes had been counted. Today, most likely, would be the day we learned who our new student body president would be. I know I was excited. I mean, I could barely focus on the ground below my feet, much less my classes.
And then it happened. At 5th period, we were called to the auditorium. Miss Meyer, who was in charge of the student council, stood on the stage.
"I know you all have been waiting for this moment." she said. "And I would like to commend our presidential candidates." She turned around to smile at Mervyn and Savannah, both of whom were sitting behind her on the stage. They smiled back. "It takes a whole lot of courage and dedication to stand up for this kind of thing, especially in a school that's still practically new to you. But anyway, let me get to business. Your new student body president..." she opened the envelope, and for a second, her expression changed completely, to utter confusion. But she recovered her smile in a moment. "Due to a truly astonishing number of write-in votes, your student body president is.... Mikelah Grace."
I didn't even fully understand what was going on as the auditorium erupted in cheers. Mervyn looked as stunned as I did on the stage, before breaking into a huge grin. Hazel shook me out of it. "Did you hear that? Meggie! Did you hear it?"
I choked out some sort of noise. "Can they even do that?" I asked.
And Hazel laughed in relief. And just kept laughing, at how funny this whole thing was and how well everything turned out. "The expulsion didn't go through yet!" she giggled. "It wasn't official! It didn't go through the system!"
And I finally got it, and I started laughing too. "They can't expel the president, now can they?"
Both of us sat there, holding each other's hands and laughing until tears came in the middle of the crowded auditorium. It was just amazing how well things worked out sometimes.