Thursday

Victorious by @ned400 (491 Words)


Its deathly quiet outside as I sit there, waiting.I try to gaze beyond the solid oak doors to catch a glimpse of what is going on in the other room, trying to get an indication of what will happen next.This is my last chance and I know that if I get the wrong verdict today, it's over for me and I have failed them...again.

The chair I'm sitting on is suddenly uncomfortable as I contemplate if everything goes against me today. I won't be able to carry on, I won't. Not this time.

I wish that things could have gone differently, that I did not make those stupid choices again, turn down those blind alleys. In a way I deserve the punishment. But my life ,my very existence is on the line here.

The usher opens the door, eyes cold and hard and signals me in. My throat is too dry to say anything so I just nod my head in thanks. Shuffling forward awkwardly I stumble twice conscious of everyone's judging eyes staring at me.

The court room feels ice cold and my heart is pounding my head spinning. As I come to my seat the judge asks me to rise before I can sit down and I wish that I could hold on to the rail to steady my wobbling legs as all my strength leaches out from me.

"Mr Robins , I'll make this brief, your actions in this process have not painted you with glory and I could remonstrate your failures for many an hour. But after much deliberation we have decided to rule in your favour "

A daze , I'm in a daze, What did he say?

Flurries of activity, whirlwinds of people shaking my hand, the usher guiding me from my behind the bench and my solicitor grinning at me. I notice my mom looking at me in between crying into her handkerchief  her relief overcoming her.

I rush out into the corridor and I'm hit suddenly by a force that pushes me to my knees."Daddy! Daddy ! Is it over?" my little boy and girl, Nathan and Connie, dear little Connie, look up at me finding it hard to hold their tears of joy back.

My voice cracks as I reply " It's over. We can all go home now. You don't have to go back  there again. Ever!"

We start to walk out of the court  they clasp my hands one on each side , and Nathan can't help to notice them shaking.  I can tell by the look of worry he is trying to hide on his face that he hopes that the demons are buried now.  I hope so too. A 7 year old shouldn't have to support me like he has had to. Reassuring me he strokes my hand and notices that I am wearing the Mickey Mouse cuff-links they brought me for Christmas.

"Told you they were magic." He says smiling.

1 comment:

  1. Nice one Ned.
    I really must invest the time to follow this site routinely. It's great to sse springs of talent before they're recognised as rivers.

    ReplyDelete