Testimony|Jomrie
[TRIGGER WARNING: KNIVES AND BLOOD]
The whole room felt like a bath house. Not one of those indoor locker room showers either. No, this felt hot and stuffy and full of steam, just like the ones you read about in greek mythology. The way I see it, they got rid of those things for a reason. Of course, I had never been in one, but I imagine it felt like this. Felt cramped and crowded like there weren't enough metal seats in the county to hold everyone.
There weren't. People lined the back of the walls and kept their hands behind them, almost taking most of the pressure off their feet by pushing their fingertips so close to the paneling that it would burn. I wouldn't be able to stay standing during this whole ordeal. My knees would have buckled and stopped the blood flow to my brain faster than it could be over.
I couldn't keep my eyes on one thing, or my mind for that matter. This was all a little too much for me. The Alabama heat the plagued the summer, little beads of sweat that dripped off the tip of my nose, the judge who looked uncomfortable in the robes he dawned... hell even the lawyer who I had talked to on more than one occasion sent chills down my spine.
He watched me with eyes that were almost as black as coal in this light. I trusted him though, trusted his look and the way I talked to him about what exactly I was supposed to say on the stand in order to make this trial go as smoothly as possible. He looked like an older Atticus Finch. The one from the movie, not the one printed into thousands of books every year.
I could feel sweat drip down my arms. I wasn't sure where it was coming from, but it dripped easily off of my fingertips and pressed against the wooden stand. I hadn't spoken yet, I hadn't even been sworn in. I was just being stared at. Not just by the lawyer, or by the woman in the orange jumpsuit next to him.
"Miss Hart," the judge spoke with a certain heat to his voice. It was one that made the room feel even dryer. He sounded louder now that I was next to him instead of across the room. "You are to be sworn in by a offical. You answer questions that both parties ask you to the best of your ability are we clear?"
"Yes sir," I stumbled out, giving a small nod. My shirt was pressing against my back uncomfortably. The so called official he named stepped forward, his non-slip shoes making an odd noise against the linoleum. He held up a bible, the pages browned and the spine falling apart. It was probably as old as the courthouse if not older.
"Dr. Mamrie Hart," He spoke in a softer tone than the judge. He asked me to rise to right hand, which I did compliantly, feeling the sweat move towards my elbow "Do you swear to tell the truth and nothing but the whole truth to this courtroom in question."
My eyes met the girl who sat slumped in her chair, not a care in the world. It wasn't my job to convict her. That was the furthest thing from my mind. My soul purpose in this case is to prove how she did it. How this blonde woman with a bit of a crazed look in her eyes was capable of murder. That was my job, and I intended to do it.
"I do."
The air that pooled in my lungs was cold. Not like that day, not like that fifteen minute moment in time that I spent in that damned courtroom. I was back in my room, away from that nightmare, away from that day.
There wasn't much light where I was, my balcony windows opened to a treeless backyard. A cold wind pushed through the doors, letting out little howls every now and then. There was a fine layer of sweat that coated my almost bare chest, my tank top nearly see through at this point. These nightmares needed to stop soon.
I could tell by how light the sky was becoming that I didn't have much time left before I had to get up. There would be no use in closing my eyes again. Not now. Every Time I did I felt like I was looking into Grace's eyes again. Into the eyes of a killer.
She was behind bars, that's not what I was worried about. Hell, I had helped put her there myself. It wasn't a hard task. The evidence built up against her faster than I would care to admit. If I hadn't seen it first hand I would have called it a set up. I would have felt the guilt of sending an innocent woman to jail- but that wasn't the case.
I shook my head clear as I started to go through my morning routine mindlessly. There was no over thinking, not now. I refused myself to go back there, even if the nightmare had felt as real as ever. I kept the water cold as I showered, kept the pot small as I brewed coffee, and my hand steady as I applied pitch eye liner. Just like normal. Everything was normal.
I was already running late to work, despite being early to wake up. My bag was over my shoulder, my eyes searching for my keys in the nearly dark hallway until I glanced up at a small and loud creak like a haunted house door. There was light spilling into the foyer from my front door. It was ajar.
My whole body immediately tensed up as I took a careful step back, praying silently that my foot wouldn't hit the one loose board that would alert someone of any type of movement that I decided to carry with me.
I felt along the granite countertop blindly, grasping onto the closet knife that I could find. One that wasn't too sharp, but was serrated against my palm. My breath seemed to catch in my throat as I stayed as quiet as possible.
The arm wrapped around my neck faster than I had a chance to react, a rough heat moving through my throat as I tried to get out a scream. I made no noise though, my one hand clawing at the arm that pressed my back into the attacker's chest while the other kept the kitchen knife at my side until I slammed back roughly, hearing a loud crunch as a scream sounded off in my ear, making it hot as air rushed passed it.
I was shaking, not bothering to look back as they released me for a split second to sprint toward the door. It was fifteen feet away, if even. Despite how much effort I had taken to slamming the sharp end of a blade into this-this person's leg they got there faster, pressing a black gloved hand against the door hard enough to leave us in almost a pitch scenario. The only light I had was gone, my chest heaving up and down as I pressed my cheek against the cold door.
My fingertips had made a bloodied streak against the white paint where I allowed my touch to wonder. It wasn't my blood, but it affected me all the same.
"That wasn't very nice." the voice spoke with conviction. It was female, female and gruff. Something I hadn't expected. It didn't sound like her though. Not like I thought it was Grace for more than a split second. She wouldn't be naive enough for me to stab her.
"How did you find me?" I said between breathes, turning around slowly. My back felt cool against the white wood. She kept her hand to the right of my head. She was about the same height as me, almost shorter. Her hair was cropped short, probably made it easier to do whatever she needed to do.
I recognized her from the courtroom, but couldn't recall a name. I didn't need to recall one. Not in the position I was in back then. She saw me studying her, but didn't give it a second thought "You're not a very hard woman to track down, Mamrie."
My mouth was dry, but I tried to swallow anyway, it had no avale. My throat was scratchy and ached from where she had so rudely tried to end me. "I figured she was behind all of this. Th-the missing jury members, the judge that wound up dead in his fucking car."
"That was a nice touch, don't you think?" She scoffed, her breath was minty against my lungs, it mixed with the heavy scent of charcoal and metallic blood. "Grace is a little bitch who took a guilty conviction as time to repent for her sins."
"Smart woman."
"A dead one for all I care." She hissed, her voice rising. I couldn't help but wonder why this girl was talking to me. Why she was standing there like I hadn't just seriously wounded her. "You know, this whole thing started off as a way to avenge my best friend but this?"
I grimaced away as I felt the cold tip of the very knife I had shoved into her leg press softly right under my chin. It beat roughly against my pulse, each time my heart decided to push against my rib cage I felt the tip of a knife close in against my artery.
"This is a lot more fun."
"Joslyn." I whispered, not acknowledging the warmth the rushed down my neck and pooled at my collarbone. That small prick of a blade was her warning. Something I took very lightly. "Grace's friend, I-"
"You got her thrown behind bars." She said, her voice a low growl, "Got her fired, got me fired. I... You ruined both of our lives with your testimony."
"You're wrong." I swallowed roughly "My testimony, it would've of changed anything." She watched me with close eyes, her forehead wrinkled in confusion. "If not me, they would find another doctor. Someone else would have done the autopsy and she'd still be where she is today."
"Shut up!" She screamed, my ears ringing at the sharp noise as I let out a shaky breath "Someone else didn't make the statement, Dr.Hart. You did. You were number one on my list for awhile. It was like you had no damn remorse of sending a teenager to prison."
"Do you?" I whispered "Have remorse I mean. For her? For yourself? Joslyn, what the hell are you doing?"
She didn't say a word, her grip tightening around the edge of the knife. It didn't matter to me either way. I wasn't interested in talking her down. I had known for awhile that I'd end up dead. The nightmares were a constant reminder. I had lived in fear up until this point because I was done waiting. Done with my fatal mistake of testifying on a trial that could have called anyone else to the stand. Anyone with a medical degree could have done what I did.
"You're what? 25? You have a knife to a woman's throat and think this is the answer?"
"It's the only one I can think of."
"Then you're not thinking hard enough." I clenched my jaw, staring into her coffee eyes "You've killed more people than Grace went to jail for and she's stuck with a life in prison. She's stuck with something that you're obviously trying hard to avenge. Look.. I-I'm sorry about your job, and Grace. But I can't change that and neither can you."
"You're right." She cocked her head to the side "Killing you wouldn't change that. But I'm not really one for change, Dr.Hart."