Prisoners of War - Chapter 23

Essay by spoonman419 August 2004

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The few people who came back to the court whispered to each other, and Stacie squeezed my arm as I could hear my mother start to cry. I sighed as the judge banged his gavel to quiet down the whispers.

"Sentencing will be in one week...dism-"

"-Wait!" I cried out pulling away from Stacie and standing up. I felt my face getting hot as everyone's eyes were on me. My mouth suddenly felt very dry.

"What is it?" The judge asked, his annoyance gone now with a look of pity. I said nothing, I couldn't, but just walked up to him and placed the small object I held in my pocket to him.

I turned back around looking at Tim and started walking about, hearing it starting. "So then my mom had nothing to do with it?"

Laughter was heard as Tim was then heard. "Of course not, she was just security, which I apparently needed that day."

Tim's face went from calmness to surprise then to anger as he shot up in his seat and bolted for the door.

I smiled seeing the guards grab him, and the courtroom burst out in talking as the tape recorder finished playing. I didn't know it was in my pocket, in fact I had forgotten I had even owned one, and I smiled to myself sitting down, my mom crying and laughing, thinking of the chances of wearing that coat that I wore, that I hadn't worn in months this night.

My mind was swimming, so much was happening at once. The prosecution cursing and giving me dirty looks as my mom turned around and hugged me crying in my arms and Tim was lead past me in handcuffs. "You're ****ing dead!! You're all ****ing dead!" He screamed struggling to get away.