For Life

“I would never do that!” I shouted as the man in the black suit sized me up. He smiled, enjoying the fact that I was beginning to break after so long on the stand.
        “Alright,” he said. “Just one more question. Where were you the night of the incident?”
        I gulped, trying to see through the fog of that night. All I remembered was that I woke up the next morning with a terrible gash on my forehead.

“I... Um... I was at my friend Beth’s,” I stammered, praying I was more convincing than I thought I sounded. I couldn’t remember what I had said when the detective had asked, but it seemed like a reasonable alibi.

He looked at me with victorious eyes that made me regret my answer instantly.

“That’s strange,” he whispered. “You told the detective that you had gone to see a concert with your friend, Bailey. You said that you got hit by a crazed fan.”

He looked toward the jury and the judge as the entire court erupted into chaos. I shook my head frantically as he turned toward me once more, his eyes like that of a wolf after it catches its prey.

“You lied, my dear. I don’t know if you are lying now or if you were lying then, but nonetheless, you lied.”

I watched him with fearful eyes. I had been away from home that night. That much I remembered, but images of that night began to creep into my mind. Perhaps it was just my imagination running wild, but I couldn’t help thinking about what evidence the prosecution lawyer had given. Maybe I was guilty.

He looked at the judge. “Your Honor, you have seen the evidence that we have against the accused, Sarah Livingston. Now, she is caught in a lie about where she was. Her guilt is undeniable.”

I drew in a sharp breath and looked over to my brother, who sat in the front row of the spectators’ area. He was staring at me with wide, painful eyes. I clenched my teeth and turned my attention back to the judge.

“Sarah Livingston, you are charged with the murder of your stepmother, the late Jennifer Smith-Livingston. Based on the evidence, the court has found you…”

His words faded out as the police grabbed my arms and nearly dragged me out of the room. Before they got me out, I glanced over at my brother with desperate, hopeless eyes. He looked at me with an expression of anger and betrayal. I held his gaze for only a moment before I forced my eyes to look ahead as the tears spilled over. Guilty or not, I was going to prison for life.