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Brief Story: The Witness

Hey there! Happy Monday!

I figured I would give another brief story a try. The last one seemed to make some movement and I enjoy it when others enjoy my writing. Some of my stories stem from the haziness of falling asleep. I often have flashes of dream-like visions and they are a great kindling for a firestorm. The following is one of those visions:

I wasn’t a particular fan of the judge’s chambers, especially if it were Judge Calhoun. The musty smell of many cigars flavored the faux wood panel that barely hung on with its 30 year old glue. His small box felt like many of the interrogation rooms I’ve spent time in. Light only seeped through the small slithers peering through thick wooden blinds.

Yet, here I am; horrendously anxious and wiping my moist palms on the Armani fabric that’s slipped over my vibrating knees. I felt as if I were in the principal’s office, awaiting my parents to hear the news of my troubles. I’m a lawyer, I should be better at hiding nervousness with my trained stone face and relaxed demeanor. I just couldn’t. I was caught, I know it!

With the pressing eyes of the prosecutor, I knew she was certain of any damning evidence she had against me. What was I supposed to do? The already blood-soaked knife he so willingly pressed against my throat was enough for anyone to oblige to his commands, but I was doomed from the very start. I shouldn’t have taken that shortcut down a well-known terrible neighborhood. I shouldn’t have curiously glimpsed down that dark alley where the street light reflection of the mid-air knife caught my attention.

I had already doomed myself with being a celebrity attorney, plastering my name, my face, my family all over TV ads and billboards. The instant he glimpsed my face from my driver side window, I became a prize buck for an expert hunter.

“Hey, I know you! You’re that big time lawyer I seen on them park benches! Oh, just my lucky day! We gon eat good tuhday!”

I felt his breath and saliva spray behind my ear as he dragged me from my (painstakingly obvious) luxury sedan and into the unbiased street light above. While doing so, someone spotted his murderous creation in the alley way, screamed, and forced his ragged face to turn. He mistakenly revealed himself to the witness who captured his mug on a camera phone just before running.

A bundle of profane, racial slurs slipped over his tongue as he tightened his forearm around my neck. A midst his panic, his brain must’ve been scrambling to come up with an idea before he finally realized he had struck gold just minutes prior.

“You know, law man, I’ve seen them purdy pictures of ya family. You sure are proud, ain’tcha? Be a shame if sum’in were to happ’n to ’em! I bet dat li’l boy uh yours really looks up to ya. I might just go and string ’em up in a car wash som’ers and watch all the blood run to his head. See how much he bleeds then when I slice open his kidneys.”

After heavy tears and an abundance of pleading, I agreed to be his attorney in his murder trial. I couldn’t care less if my career went to shambles or if he had killed me that very night. There was no way in hell I would let him touch my family.

He let me drive off as the familiar police lights flashed in the distance. I looked back as I sped away, watching him lick  the crimson from the steel blade while pointing at me with his sharp index finger.

The months leading up to sitting in the Judge’s chambers had been far too easy. Everything was falling into place and it looked like the odds were in this murderer’s favor. The guilt was starting to seep through my pores and I would soon become just as much of a monster as he. I couldn’t let him kill them, but I was going to be the reason he would kill again. How would I know that he wouldn’t go after my family? I didn’t, but I couldn’t risk it.

The witness wasn’t anywhere to be found and the condemning photo hadn’t turned up. No matter how many stones I un-turned, doors I knocked on, or papers I’ve flipped through.

“Your Honor, new evidence has surfaced and we have reason to believe that the defendant’s counselor was there the night of the murder.”

Her eyes were dark as coal as a slight grin crept it’s way to a corner of her lacquered lips. My nemesis was out for me and this was her moment. I could tell she wanted to gloat. She wanted that cape of hers to flap in the wind as she stood, proudly righteous.

She handed the nicotine yellow folder to the tired hands of Judge Calhoun. When he opened it, he immediately furrowed his brows.

“Counselor Hammond, is this your license plate?”

Well, I hope you enjoyed this little fun one. The vision I had was of the nervous guy in a suit, sitting in a courtroom. I thought it would be a little more fun to play it out as an attorney, rather than someone on trial.

Let me know what you think in the comments below!

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