the innocent criminal
“Will the defendant please rise?” the thick words of the jury echoed throughout the vast closed space and painfully reverberated in my ears. Anxiety threatened to slaughter my legs as I gradually rose from my appointed seat. Breath uneven, legs unstable, pulse racing… I scanned the court room, its almighty intimidating bright light fixated upon my trembling body. Fear stood at the peak of my lungs as I watched the blurred faces staring at me… staring at the alien of the room.
“Tyrone Reddict… do you or do you not pledge guilty of the prosecutor’s accusation?” The jury’s hawk eyes pinning me down as I said the words “I am not guilty.” When those four words made its way to the audience, slicing through the thick air of the room, faces turned into a scowl.
“very well.” His words sharp and powerful pierced through my body. “will the victim’s guardian please rise and make a statement.” He continued.
I glanced to my right to see Audrey’s father, Bill, rise with a smug look on his face. His tailored-glorious- suit fabricated with immense wealth and prosperity mocked my attorney’s grey (once white) worn out suit. Chest stuck out, hands on his heart; “Tyrone and innocent Audrey were the only ones present after the party had ended.” His words wrapped with fraud sadness. “Tyrone in particular, an aggressive defence player in football, had feelings towards my innocent daughter, who didn’t feel the same way.” His face lit up when he said the word “innocent”.
Confused and perplexed, I stared at the man with utter disbelief. Astounded by his game of lies and never happened story. The whispers of the audience were muffled but snickers and clicking of tongues could be comprehended.
“Tyrone, did you or did you not know the victim?”
“your honour, Audrey and I were classmates but may I add that…” the words that slurred at the tip of my tongue were forcefully pushed back by the the voice of the judge. “you may only answer my questions!” he remarked, emphasizing the word “my”.
Betrayed, lost and frustrated; I stood like a possessed soul who had been casted with a spell.
“Did you have any involvements with the victim that night?” the judge added.
“No, your honour.”
“objection!” Audrey’s father barked at my statement. Pulling another artificial emotion, he continued, “he was present in the crime scene when the police arrived!” faking a slight tremor in his voice. “my daughter... cold and soaked in her own blood…. And Tyrone.Tyrone was about to escape from the room!”
Fear turned into anger and it was like a bottle within me had been mercilessly cracked, spilling the overflowing contents. panic and urgency in my voice, “when I walked in the room, Audrey was already…dead…and I turned back to call for help but the...” “silence!” once again, my attempt to counter and defend myself had been forcefully pushed aback by the jury’s booming voice.
Every inch of my body twitched and trembled and wanted to dissemble and collapse onto the cold floor. Bill continued to flood the court with lies...lies...lies.
I glanced at my attorney who gave me a hopeful pleading look, his eyes filed with empathy and kindness. The only pair of eyes that didn’t gawk on me when I walked into this room. I cringed at the audience’s attempt to stifle their wicked snickers. I was the alien of the room, the criminal, the perpetrator and most and foremost… the black teenager.
I felt the world laugh at me and I couldn’t help but stifle a silent sad laugh. A laugh coated with weakness and disbelief. My action only added insult to the injury. From my peripheral view, I could see the sheriffs stiffen and alerted by my action.
“he’s laughing! What kind of wicked man?!” bill declared, “he’s obviously guilty, your honour!” he added.
Three hits of the gavel was all it took before my world collapsed. I watch as the shred of light I had imagined diminish into utter blackness. “Tyrone Reddict, thirteen years old, born in Massachusetts is announced… guilty of first-degree murder of Audrey Campbell. He will serve fifteen years in prison. Case closed.”
I felt Weak and hollow. I felt the ground beneath my feet collapse. I stared at the eyes of my attorney and smiled, a smile more watercolour than acrylic. A smile that said `thankyou for trying’. A smile that said `I’m sorry’. I felt the tears brush my cheeks before the handcuffs reached me and found myself being dragged by the sheriffs. Thinking that there was a shred of hope was a ridicule because it just dawned on me that there is only so little that a black can do... or say… in a court of white.