Hollowed Hearts

Rolls of thick paper sat proudly in a bundled mess, within a glass case. Papers, that contained the detailed designs of every great building that put this small shredded city of Eastern Europe, on the geographical map.

A plain wooden plaque, placed in front, read, in golden letters:

Dr. Andrew Stenson

Chief architect

Founder of Sten Design's

Karl read the plaque. Dr. Stenson... The person responsible for the revolutionary change in European architecture, was also the reason, Karl was brought to Earth.

Standing in front of the grand memento, designed in memory of his late father, Karl could only think of his bitter childhood days spent with the man.

Andrew Stenson, loved his buildings and the city, he was redesigning. And Karl, prayed every single day, that his father would look at him, even with just a sliver of that adornment, as given to those lifeless bricks. But the day never came. On the contrary, his father treated him as an empty container, where you could drill the logics and the designs into his brains, even though it spewed them right back up. Karl repeatedly tried hard to understand the angles and length and breadth and everything that goes with architecture, but they never made any sense. The logics and the dynamics evaded him. So, instead of convincing himself,  he tried to convince his father. Tried to make him understand the magic of literature, but his old man just scoffed, turned around and left.

Andrew did not understand anything other than architecture. Nor could he understand how such an empty headed child could be his. Language!... the kid wanted to learn language!!... As any of that ever got anyone anywhere!!... Ha!... The idiot!!. It was then he decided, if his blood was not talented enough to be an architect, then, God! he would make one out of him. No matter what it took.

And hence, Karl Stenson, the architect, was born. Karl did not like it… no, he hated it. He hated his father for it. But even through all that hatred, he could never bring himself to hate his father's designs. Even when young, he could see the wonders of them. And it wasn't as if, Karl himself, turned out bad. He was decent enough. In fact, there was a time, when Karl had designed an elegant skyscraper to one of his clients, which was liked instantly, and was  assigned another project on spot. The clients had told: “Like father, like son”. Karl, had thought, he had finally reached, where his father wanted him to be. But it all lasted until, Andrew took Karl's charts, smilingly, and told them about a few changes. A few changes that changed the entire design. The next thing Karl knew, were the clients looking at him with a small smile: “You are good. Buy you can never be your father”. And so he left.

Karl left and never looked back. He left his father… architecture… his life… he left it all behind and started a new one. Now, 8 years down the road, Karl was an established author, with 2 Edgars up his sleeve, and many more to come.

And not once had he given a thought to his father. Until few days ago, when a call came, informing him of Andrew's demise.

And now, standing there in the reception of Sten Design's, and looking at the memento, Karl had no idea how to feel. Loss… for those great designs will never be drawn again... or hatred… for never even trying to understand his own blood.

No… Karl had no idea.

Desert Palace

Legend has it that, the one who enters the Desert Palace, will never return empty handed…. but at a hefty price

And Raelin had paid that price: her father's soul. She trudged those desert lands again, to set right that very math.

“Are you sure about this, princess?”, the chief guard, treading alongside her, asked.

“We do not have other options, Makaél. This is our only way” replied Raelin.

“Some of us would like to differ with that opinion” stated the chief.

Raelin smiled. Her people, including the army Chieftain, somehow still saw the gentility in her, that had long been lost. But she knew otherwise and she knew her people deserved better.

“Father was a great ruler, Makaél. No one can step into his shoes”, she politely answered him, silently warning, not to prod the topic further. But Makaél wouldn't heed.

“Again princess, there are few who wouldn't agree. What comes, maybe far worse than what is. The devil is not known to be merciful”

Merciful?!! Nobody knew the devil better than she did. Nobody had lost, to the devil more than she had. How could the chief be so naive as to think,  she hadn't weighed out all the options? Hadn't thought this through?. Raelin sighed and took a long breath to calm herself and pushed on her mission.

“Raelin!!! Never thought, I would be seeing you again!”

The princess bowed before the 50+ foot long statue, before retorting to the greeting, poison filling her every word.“Pardon me, if I share the same thoughts”

The statue chuckled, noting the animosity in her voice. “The deal was sealed, Raelin. I took what was mine, fair and square”.

Fire burned in Raelin's eyes, threatening to engulf her.

Yes! You had taken from me. Fair and square. But, you had no bloody right to lay your dirty gruesome fingers on MY FATHER!!

But what's done could not be undone. So Raelin gave herself few seconds before providing the devil with a decent reply.

“Yes. I know. But, I'm not here to complain, Shaamnahk. I'm here with an offer”

“An offer?!!”, intrigued the devil straightened a bit. “How quaint? Please… Do tell”.

Raelin took out a small battered parchment and held it out on her hand, giving it a light push. The parchment soared, as if caught by a sudden breeze, unfurling itself on its way. When it had reached high enough, it stood facing the statue, completely spread open.

A small ball of blue vapour, hovered over the parchment, emitting a faint light, which fell over the statue's face, just enough to trace it's feeble lines… or skull more so.

“How did you find this?”. The statue’s voice was just above a whisper.

Raelin’s lips curved into a smile.“A soldier never tells his secrets, Shaamnahk”

The devil grunted his disagreement, his eyes never leaving the parchment. Damn the creature to present him with such a prize. For the first time in a million lost years, he had a chance to get back what always belonged to him, but was devoid of. This would be his biggest bargain ever. But...

“What do you want in return?”

“My father”

“He's dead”

“I'm sure that wouldn't make a difference to you”.

Shaamnahk stared at the miniscule of a girl, standing in front of him. Anger bubbled beneath the surface, but just for a second, when he realised, the battle was mostly lost. This junk of a human was beating him at his own game, and as it stood, he did not have a pawn to move. A clever one, she was.

He looked back at the still hovering parchment. It was his fight now. A fight between his pride/reputation and his soul. Which was his most dearest?. Choose one, he would loose the other, and with that followed its dire consequences.

Several eons would have passed ( or in the least, Raelin thought), before the devil made his decision. He slowly moved to pick up the floating parchment and rolled it up. He bent on one knee to face her, coming close, inches from her face. He held out the parchment for her, and in fact, as Raelin had mentioned, his fingers were dirty and gruesome.

“If you fail, your father won't be the only one I would be taking from you this time”, he said in a malign voice, foulness reeking his mouth.

“Deal”, was the only reply Raelin felt suitable to answer.

An Old Case

With a disastrously tasting coffee in hand and munching on my last piece of sandwich, I entered my office. The usual morning clutter of police work waking up, was gradually filling the air. Another day, another crime… I sighed. I fervently hoped, prayed, to whoever stayed up there, that at least today, I would be assigned some boring job instead of some cold blood murder or slaughter or suicide cases...

Glugging the last few dregs of my coffee, I lazily scanned the front page of the morning newspaper. Apart from the usual nonsense, even the papers these days did not have anything interesting to report. Where did the good old days go?...

“Good god!! Can you ever be on time?”, came my partner, Hank’s voice from somewhere. I looked up and smiled, but almost immediately frowned on seeing the thick file in his hand.

“Bad headache and laziness is an evil match”,I said, without taking my eyes off the file. “Please tell me that’s not our new case file”

Hank grunted. “You should be ashamed of yourself. No discipline… no manners… No-” He sighed. Good. Finally it dawned, that those words never made it to my dictionary. “Anyway, to answer your question. No, this is not our new case file. It's a report on the last one. But we do have a case. 2 missing people… missing from 3 years, mind you...married to each other. Recently, the forest patrol found their car, half buried in the floor”

“Really?? A missing case?..  Sounds fun”. Missing cases were far better than murders or suicides. There truly is a God!!... “Well, what are we waiting for?. Let's go”, I said, displaying all my yellowed teeth.

Hank rolled his eyes. “If you had come in early, we would have been half way across by now”

We headed out in our car, towards our destination; me laid out in the front passenger seat, with my Russell's cap, pulled over my eyes. As if fighting with the horrors of our previous case, last night, wasn't enough, I had to close my eyes again and welcome them with open arms, hadn't I? If this wasn’t stupid, then I don't know what is. The images rushed in, bringing with them, the voices of the murderers.

“How’s your headache?”

Hank's voice came as a welcomed bird song. But I wasn't gonna let him know that. “Concerned, are we?”, I said with a teasing smile.

“Maybe…A little... I'm sorry you had to be there”. I could hear the concern brimming in his voice.

I laughed. “Don't get all chummy around me, Hank. I’m never going to marry you, you know... Besides, I had to be there. How else would you have known, how the murders happened?”, I said, still under my cap.

I could sense him shaking his head disapprovingly. “I don't know, Clara… but I don't like this. Thankful as the police department are towards you and your powers, I just don't like it one bit. These scums are just selfish, looking for more money and more publicity. They do not care, what you go through, everyday… They don't care if you die in a car accident or facing your horrors...No… nobody deserves to be used like this, not even you… Goodness knows, how you manage it, Clara, with all those nightmares flipping in your head… But every time, when you walk into office, acting all cool and sane, I admit, it surprises me to nerves end!!”

I laughed again. “Thanks to you”, I said and punched him on his arm. We both laughed.

Yes… nobody deserved to be used like this. But with the curse I have, I couldn't exactly sit at a mall and sell chocolates. A giant pain it may be, but I wanted to think, I was using the curse for some good purpose. Although there were times, where I hovered over the edge of sanity, when the good or bad didn't make sense anymore, even then, I couldn't bring myself to have a quiet life. And with Hank around, I always found a reason to bounce back. He had become sorts of my personal embankment.

We parked our car on the small walk way, near the place where the car had gone missing. I stepped out lazily and  stretched.

All around us the trees stood, long and strong… but that was all. No birds chirped or insects whirred… not even a single cricket's sound could be heard. This was their paradise, their home and yet, they seemed to have abandoned it. Something very grave had occurred here, and it still haunts the place.

We walked a few meters inside the forest, to find the abandoned car. It was half buried in the floor and under 3 years of forest litter. I pulled out my camera, and started taking pictures. Behind me, the leaves crunched. The sounds were vague, very soft and very smooth. I turned. Hank was standing a few feet away, waving his torch around, but there was no third person. Strange… I ignored the sensation and pulled out my own phone torch, it's light neatly illuminating the car’s insides.

The steps grew louder… it was walking besides me now… and-

My surroundings faded.

The smell… of decaying bones under rotting leaves… mixed with a delightful music, created by the buzzing flies… and death singing in the air… The feeling that spread through my chest was of utter bliss…

I stared down into the night dark recesses of black Irises, fright of death seeping out of those hallowed holes… crying a silent plea...

Through the broken windshield, I could clearly make out every tiny little feature that defined their deaths… Blue-decayed-into-black grooves, fashioned their faces in an  intricate artwork. Traces of dry white saliva froth could still be seen around their parched open lips. A mute sound escaping them. Bony fingers, extending from thin slender arms, had latched themselves around the locks of the side door, while the arms themselves lay limp and forsaken on their sides. Great flakes of skin had been ripped over their chest, through whose patches, white rib bones and a blackened dead heart could be seen.

A few more hours and I would have missed this pretty sight!! A few more hours…, I smiled as I imagined, their bones would turn into mere particles… A few more hours… Before I target my next victim… before I revel in death again...

“Clara!! Clara!!... Hey!!”. Hank’s voice reverberated from afar. I did not respond. He shook my shoulders heavily. I blinked and the surrounding forest flickered around me again. I could see the trees staring down and the sunlight, fighting it's way to meet the ground, which itself was covered in years of forest litter. And, as a recent addition, an old missing car was dumped.

“Hey!!” Hank called again, concern creeping into his eyes. “You alright? You look weird...”.

“They are murdered”, I whispered, my breaths’ heavy. The killer's voice, still echoed in my ears.

“Who?”

“The couple… the missing ones…”

Fear seeped into Hank's eyes. “Are you sure?”. But he already knew the answer.

“Do you know who was responsible?”

Damn!! Damn my curse!! Damn my visions!! Even though I could clearly hear and feel a death, the images presented, were always blurred, just dark, shady outlines. No matter how hard I tried, I wasn't ever able to put a face on the participants. This one was no different.

“All I know is, he's tall, probably 6 feet… not very muscular…”

“And the couple?... What’s he done to them?”. The revolting images rolled freshly against my eyes again. I shut them as I slumped down on my knees, my stomach bile threatening to fall over.

Hank rushed closer and held me tight.  “Deep breaths, Clara… Deep breaths…”, he whispered. I rested my head over his chest. Hank's voice coxed again. I obeyed and took in a few long breaths, concentrating hard on the days, Hank and I spent, jollying around in a local bar. The horror started to subside, slowly, as thin vapors.

“Better?” Hank asked. I nodded against his chest. Cold sweat still seeped out of their pores over my forehead.

Slowly I found my voice. “They are dead… He had them poisoned... Their bodies… disintegrated, turned to nothing…”. I forced myself to breathe, as the nausea started to take over me again. “They had become mere wisps in the air, Hank, before it all ended…”

“Good lord!!”

Those poor people… What grave sin had they committed to be eligible for such a heinous death? No… But this wasn't punishment… This was a pure psychotic act…

A few more hours… before I revel in death again...

No.. I can't allow it to happen… No...Pulling myself straight, I tried to will some strength into my frozen bones.  Curse It!!... The academy had made it seem bloody easy, but now it felt like, I had reached the end of time itself, before I could finally stand.

“Hank…  he's not done yet… and he’s not gonna be done…ever…”

The Royal Heist

There were people below, there were people behind. And the earth fell beneath me….

If only everything had gone as planned....

A few hours earlier:

After several years of hunting, Mr. Novak had finally managed to get his hands on the, long believed to be lost, treasure: The royal necklace of the Windsor’s.

And today, was its grand showcase.

Being a lover of gold myself, I could not let some fancy billionaire, to have such an antique piece, all to his self now, could I? So, I made sure I would be invited to the party as well… Ahem... even if it was as a butler….

 So at 4:30 p.m., Mr. Novak entered the grand hall, which was decorated lavishly, on account of the grand evening. His elegant walk contained a charm of a business man. He stopped right next to the showpiece that was placed on a raised platform, and which currently was covered in a purple sheet of cloth.

"Welcome, my fellow friends. Thank you for being here. To be a part of such a brilliant occasion...” Mr. Novak, spoke with an air of authority. Unfortunately, my interest was on the centerpiece, rather than his words. So, as they say, patience is the key to success, in my case, gold, I waited.

"Forgive me, if I don’t permit you to ask me, how I got my dirty hands on such a precious gem. But however, I will permit you…… to see it …."

The curtain from the platform was raised…. And there it was... molded in dark gold, holding the three most precious gems in the center: diamond in the middle, with emerald on one side and ruby on the other, as its partners. The grand necklace was standing on a white colored neck stand, which was attached to the raised stage. The entire showpiece was encased in a glass case, giving the neck piece a shimmering effect.  The sight was magnificent…completely transfixing.

"Sight for sore eyes, isn't she?” Mr. Novak was satisfied with the crowd’s reaction.

“Now, we would all like to know a little history about this necklace, eh? As, everybody assembled here knows, this beauty here, once belonged to the family of The Windsor's. It was worn by the then Queen, Mrs. Catherine Windsor, during their rule in the 1820's. Believed to be lost or should I say stolen, by an unfaithful servant, only to be lost in a few decades again”

Just then one of the guests called out for a drink. I waddled through the crowd to reach him, hardly listening to Mr. Novak's speech. It was time.

"Italy... Geneva... Even London.... This piece has traveled the world. The last rumor was....."

He went on, showing the pictures on a projector. While, everybody was busy, looking at the slides, I silently took a picture of the necklace from my phone.

"No cellphones during work" one of my colleagues whispered, while passing.

"Girlfriend...” I replied with a sly grin.

I put my phone back and noiselessly walked past the showpiece, and out of the hall, into the kitchen. I grabbed my bag, got out through the backdoor, round the backyard to the front gate.

This is where my plan ended. I had completely no idea, how to get past these elite security killer machines. My plan was simple; grab the necklace and escape, although the escape part was still on a blueprint.

“Where are you going?” one of them stopped and asked me.

“Home. My shift just got over”. The security looked at me as though his eyes could scan right through my skull. He grunted and ran the detectors over me and then over my bag.

Damn it!!!

The sensor beeped loudly. He asked me to empty my bag. I tried to tell, it was just my lunch box… but, who was I trying to fool. He snatched my bag to open it.

Suddenly, the alarm from the house went off.

"It’s gone... The necklace's been taken…It’s gone… Search the house… Search everybody…” Mr. Novak’s voice was heard over the receiver.

That was my cue. I grabbed my bag and jumped off the huge artistic gate, and into the street. I ran, not really concentrating where the road led, but just hoping that I wouldn't hit any dead ends.

Huge monstrous vehicles flung out of the house to chase me, while I was only on foot? Bloody unfair!! So I grabbed a scooter, and took off the side road. The jeeps followed.

The scooter carried me a few meters towards the Lionel Bridge, before it ran empty. Wow... Such is my luck. I dropped the vehicle and started running again.

Just near to the bridge, a boy parked his cycle, to buy an ice cream. A luxury, I couldn't afford right now. I grabbed his cycle and peddled off through the bridge into the other part of the city.

With the bad guys (Well, they are!!), still behind me, I rode through the streets of the city, into a park, across the Stalwart Theater and into the old city. This is where my luck, decided to take a tour again.

Five minutes into the old city, I ran into a dead end. I took a right turn and then another, and met a dead end again. The monstrous vehicles never left my side. I can’t remember the last time, somebody being so loyal to me.

Filled with old heritage houses, the street that I decided to enter, had led me to a complete dead end. No right, No left, just an old, worn out building in front.

I abandoned the cycle, and went in through the only path, fate had provided me with: Straight into the house. My goal: reach the terrace. I didn't want to know what would happen after.

So, here I was. On top of an old rusted building. Completely out of breath, and the weight of my treasure, weighing on my shoulders.

My father had often told me, that when the earth falls beneath you, you remember to jump. Between certain death by the killer guards and a certain death due to a maniac stunt, I chose the stunt.

I jumped off the ridge, hardly imagining I could make it to the other end. But I did. I managed to jump off the roof to the next building. But, I had also managed to lose my bag on the way. The bag had stripped itself along the straps and had fallen down the street below, right in front of an aged man. He looked at me, unsure, if I was even human.

"Sir, would you please throw the bag up? Please... it's my bag. At your feet, Please pass it up"

The man just stared. One of the guards’ reached the edge, and pointing his gun at me, shouted to the old man, to pass the bag to him instead.

I desperately, wanted the old man to trust me. But it looked like; he could not put one and one together.

Oh! For Pete’s sake!!...

Between my sweet life and my precious cargo, I had to choose. I looked at the man, who was still confused, and then at the guard. I had no time for this. So, before the guard could decide on shooting me, I waved him a goodbye, rolled on my back and ran. I had run only a few steps when I heard a gunshot. The bullet hit the ridge, missing me by inches. Without looking back, I jumped off the roof, to the street below, towards my den.

It was late in the night, when I broke into Mr. Novak's house again, silently. Luckily, I had managed to dodge all of Mr. Novak's guards. I walked towards the hall, to the pedestal that had held the necklace this morning. The neck stand lay bare. No glass enclosure... No lights… no necklace... I sighed. What a shame!

I took out a pen from my pocket and brought it close to the stool. Nothing happened. No alarm sounds…. Nothing... Just a silent dark hall…. Just the way I wanted...

Smiling at my fate, I happily bent down, pulled out a knife and opened the small compartment door just below the raised platform that I had carved early this morning. Inside, in the dark, lying silently over the original stand was the necklace. Even in this darkened hall, it glittered, like a bright sun on the darkest night.

I carefully removed it from its stand, took it out and placed it in a box, which I had purchased just for such a beauty. Carefully, I shut the box, and put it inside my backpack.

Now, it was time to get out. I placed the door back in its place, walked back into the kitchen and then into to the backyard. But this time, I decided to jump off the back wall rather than getting out the front. The last exit wasn’t much fun…

I was out. I was free. And miraculously, I had both my spoil and my life. Was it all worth it?... Well…it was worth a bag of nuts and bolts…

If only everything had gone as planned? Well... It did...

That One Case

That One Case

Ana Florence paced the garden that grandly decorated the front of the judicial court. If it wasn’t for the case, she would have sat down on the bench and enjoyed this very scene. But, right now, the only thing that played her mind was, this case. Her lawyer, mercifully, had pretty much convinced the judge of her being guilty.

“I think it’s time for us to go in”. Mr. Florence quipped, looking at his watch then at the court’s entrance door, but not at his daughter. He just didn’t have enough strength.

Ana looked at her father, she had never seen him this depressed. He was the source of her strength, but now he looked devastated, almost…. dead. And she was not going to make him even more miserable.

She pulled out her phone and dialed a number.

~*~

Half an hour later, Ana, standing in the witness box, still looked guilty.

“Your Honor, Ms. Florence does not have any proof that Mr. Baron really did attempt to harass her. But it might be that Ms. Florence could be trying to exploit Mr. Baron of his money, given his grandeur status. In conclusion, You Honor, I would like to say that my client has been proven innocent and I would request the court to drop all the charges applied against him”. Mr. Baxley bowed and concluded his statement.

Ana looked at the defendant… it was now or never….

“Your Honor, honestly speaking, I have no idea if I could speak now or not, but may I?”, Ana asked faking in a slight hesitation.

The judge looked at Ana for a few seconds, but nodded.

“May I speak directly to Mr. Baxley?”

The judge nodded again.

“Thank you, Your Honor…. Mr. Baxley, Do you own a house?”

The defendant looked at the judge, confused and then back at Ana.

“Yes”

“And I take it that you like-… sorry love your house?”

“Of Course, who doesn't?”

Ana pasted a smile and said, “Not many. Now, do have a family? Kids?”

Mr. Baxley turned towards the judged. “Your Honor, these questions are irrelevant to the case. We are-“

“My apologies, I haven’t studied law, Your Honor. So, I wouldn’t know what to ask or how to ask. I thoroughly apologize for that again. But, Your Honor, these questions are relevant to this case”

“Proceed”. The judge mentioned his agreement.

“Thank you, Your Honor. Now, Mr. Baxley?, Do you have a family or not?”

“Yes, I have. A very happy one”, Ana smiled.

“Congratulations. And you don’t have any problems sleeping at night?”

Mr. Baxley started laughing. “No. I sleep soundly every night”

“Very nice to know. Now, with your permission, I would like to place you in a hypothetical situation, one, of your house getting burgled. Do I have your consent?”

Mr. Baxley had stopped laughing. “What is this?”

“Its all hypothetical, Mr. Baxley, you don’t have to worry. Do I have your consent?”, Ana repeated her question.

Mr. Baxley looked pointedly at Ana, but gave a nod.

“Thank you. Now, if your house is getting burgled, what would you do?”

“I’d call the police”

“Right, but the thieves won’t be waiting until the police turn up, would they?. It would be utter foolishness of them”. The court heard a few laughs at this.

“What do you think, they would do, Mr. Baxley? Run? Stick around?... or murder?

“They would obviously run”

“But you wouldn't be alive when they do that, am I right?”

Mr. Baxley shifted on his feet and said, “No”

“Of course not. Now, since it’s a hypothetical case, let’s just say, you fought them as a hero and somehow miraculously survived. The burglars ran for their lives, empty handed. Later, the police come in and investigate. You have everything at its rightful place, nothing has been moved nor have the doors been broken or any of the glasses shattered, just you standing there with a club and a few injuries. And for the sake of ease, we will keep your family at your mother’s house happily enjoying their vacation. Now, if the police see you in such a situation, what do you think they would say?”

“They will surely ask what has happened. And I would inform them about the attempted burglary”

Ana folded her arms across her chest. “Huh. But what about the proof? If thieves really entered your house, then why hasn't anything been taken? Why is it just you with few injuries?”.

“I would have already told them. I fought!!”

The court room had suddenly gone very silent.

“Of course, you fought. But without proof, it’s just another story. When they enquire about your family and find them on vacation, there is a tiny possibility that, they think of you as a lunatic who is trying to waste their precious time”

“I was hurt!! Why would I have injuries, if it wasn’t for a burglary attempt?”, Mr. Baxley accused.

“A person with mental problems hurts himself, Mr. Baxley”

“I’m not mental”

“Maybe, but as there’s no proof…. it might all be in your imagination”

Mr. Baxley’s point of patience had reached its peak.

“I’M NOT MENTAL. DID YOU WANT ME TO SAVE MY OWN NECK OR GATHER PROOF ABOUT BEING LOOTED?”

Ana smiled, a smile saying that she had heard what she wanted to hear.

“Exactly”

Mr. Baxley looked at her confused.

“Doesn't seem fair though? You wanted to “save your own neck”, so you fought the crooks, without actually waiting to get any proof. But, when I complain of being harassed, you wanted me to actually have some proof rather than saving myself?”

And now, there was no stopping Ana. Her face was lit with anger and disappointment at the injustice being done.

“When Mr. Baron, as per your statement, “graced” by, you wanted me to pull out my phone and take a video of it instead of defending myself?, A video, which so innocently, I hand in to the police, when I try to lodge a complaint. A video, that worms itself out to the internet, despite my phone getting sealed. A video, which people like you, expertly find it later”

“Watch your tongue, Madam”. Mr. Baxley had become very serious now.

Ana scoffed and rolled her eyes. She looked back at the defendant and opened her mouth to speak again, but closed it. She tried again, but failed. The fury of injustice was burning inside her. Finally, she controlled herself and spoke.

“You know what? I understand. I understand completely about how this works. I become your victim. I go to the police, who are nowhere interested in taking down my complaint, but do so, just to show off their duties. And then I hire a lawyer, who doesn't even try to fight my case and leave the case to people like you to make me look guilty. And to top all that a judge sits there, who’s probably been bribed to write the case against me. That way, I go back to my life, to get treated as a cheap woman who walks the streets, while your client walks out free… unscathed. See, I understand… Completely”

Mr. Baxley looked at the judge, who tried to sit more comfortable in his chair and then back at Ana.

“As you said, it’s all hypothetical”. He went and sat in his chair.

~*~

After a break of two hours, Ana and her father waited for the judgment in the court room, a small ray of hope shimmering, now that she had fought her case thoroughly.

The judge ordered for silence.

“After careful evaluation of the provided situation, the court has come to a final judgment. After listening to the statements and proofs provided by the defendant and the prosecutor, this court has come to the conclusion that, Ms. Florence had indeed over reacted to the situation and had attacked Mr. Baron. And as a result, she would have to pay for all the medical expenses, until Mr. Baron has been declared fit by his concerned doctor. Mr. Baron has been declared innocent and Ms. Florence’s accusation’s mute. Case adjourned.”

Ana sat there, motionless, unbelieving. Her father put a hand on her shoulder, but she neither recognized it nor felt it. Her lawyer had walked up to her and said he was sorry, but none of that fell on her ears. Is this how the court system worked? Is there no place for justice? Is that fair lady really that blind?

Mr. Florence slowly pulled her daughter up and walked her out.

~*~

Judge Roland reached his house, wiping a sweat off his brow. He was welcomed by a sweet smile from his wife. She took his coat and bag and went to place it in its right place.

“Where’s Lia? Can’t hear her crying?”, he said with a smile dancing on his face.

“She’s sleeping. It’s been quite a time, now that you mention it”. The pressure cooker’s whistle was heard in the kitchen. The wife indicated the judge to look at the baby, while she took care of the dinner. The judge smiled and went in to Lia’s room. There in a small crib, lay curled under the blankets, his precious source of happiness. He went closer to her, to see her lovely smiling face looking up at him. But he couldn’t find her. He pulled the blankets a little lower, thinking she might have curled up inside, but no… she wasn’t there either. Confused, he pulled the blankets completely off…… but instead of finding his granddaughter, he found a small neatly folded paper. The judge picked it up and read.

Hope she was worth the bribe