Justice for Nancy: Court #2- No Remorse, Formal Charges & Boiling Blood
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Walking in, again, through the glass doors, I took one last breath of heavy, wet air. Emptying my pockets to run through the metal detector, wondering if the security guards ever see anything exciting come through the scanner…anything more exciting than my chap stick. I rethink to myself, as I refill my pockets after passing through the detector with no trouble: today feels different. Looking up at the giant marble stairs, my body retreated to the elevator without a second thought. Turning the corner, facing the board that lists the names of our cities finest who are up for that day….I quickly found his name.
Opening the doors of the court room, there were a few small groups of people inside. Two men, just quietly passing the time by, and a group of three people in the front. Three loud, vulgar, laughing like they didn’t have a care in the world, people. I noticed one had dingy blue hair, and she wore what looked like pajamas. Another had long, ratty hair, and another boy who sat twitching like he had Parkinson’s, or was coming off of a high. I sat in the courtroom, listening to their conversations, looking around the room at the beautiful artwork on the walls, hoping that the time would pass by faster. Their giggles made me wish I had more laughter in me, but I wasn’t there for that. I was focused. I was there for justice.
Soon after, my family and friends showed up to take seats next to me, to ensure that our message was delivered. The courtroom started to get busy, and in came the orange jump suits. I had flashbacks to the day before, where we had to wait, and wait…for nothing. Not this time. Such baby faced males in those orange jump suits today…we were taken aback by their birth years when they were read. So many lives ruined at 18… We all noticed the extreme disrespect from all of the inmates waiting for the judge. Bouncing in chairs, talking constantly, loudly oogling scantily clad female felons who were lucky enough to escape the orange suit and sit in the “audience”, but still there to appear before the judge. All of the sudden, I lost my voice. Huge. I turned to see the ugliest, biggest, squishy faced ogre, ever. His presence took your breath away, and made that lump in your throat grow larger. He was everything that he had been described as, and then some. As he walked in and sat, I pointed directly at him from my seat. His eyes met mine, and his head nodded. He intently watched all of us for a few moments, until a confinement officer blocked our view. There was no remorse. And at that point…
In our corner of the court room, I think our combined temperatures rose into the thousands. My blood was boiling, everyone’s was, and I was sure that I was going to have a heart attack. All the feelings came rushing back. The rage of wishing I could just jump over the wooden rail, stab him in both eyes, and return to my seat without anyone knowing. The realness of what happened that night. Flashes of her face on that first night, the blood, the terror. And then I looked up, and wouldn’t you know, he was freely talking to his family, smiling. The three loud, vulgar, ‘laughing like they didn’t care people’ were his. Naturally. We all looked at each other with lost looks of disgust. Again, wanting to pounce on everyone, but fully knowing we wouldn’t. That’s just not us. The stares and glares began. All of our heads darted to meet the looks from the loser in orange, and from his people, there to defend him. This was our half an hour in the court room…
As he was escorted back to jail, after being formally charged for the crimes he will be tried for, his family hastily left the courtroom. To follow suit, we of course got up immediately, and left after them. (laughs on the inside…) They seemed to scurry out a bit faster, but we were really only fleeing the stress of that room. Our justice will be sought through legal methods only.
It was more than saddening to see how little remorse was felt by him, or how little his family truly cared. Wait—okay…I don’t want to be mean. Maybe they do care. Maybe their laughter, smiles towards us, terrible glares….maybe that was all just their way of saying, “Sorry.” Yeah, disregard that. Forget I even eluded to the fact that they may be human beings…. That’s just not possible. I hope they took my stares, our stares, for what they were, though. Our stares should have read: justice-truth-disgust-life in prison-eye for an eye-we’re not going away-we’ll see you in your nightmares while your salad is tossed repeatedly-wish you the darkest, best future possible-locked up, forever. (Ahem, so stole that tossing salad bit from a certain Mr. Cruise…)
In a few more weeks, I’ll return to that court room to hear when trial will start. I’ll stare at him the same way, and all of his counterparts. That’s the one place where we can safely have our unspoken points, feelings, and wishes felt…and bet your sweet ass I won’t be missing any of those days!! I’m there for my Grandma(s), for my entire family (even those who have disowned me), and for myself. Whether some like it or not, this is what I do. I know that with my own issues, feeling alone, and like a burden, is the worst thing ever… and it happens frequently. (So much so, that it can completely turn off one’s drive to get better, to heal, or even try to…) So, I’ll do whatever I can, whenever I can to make someone who needs company, a hand, an ear, a voice, a shoulder, feel better… until they don’t need it anymore. Especially this someone…
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Rather than linking to an article that publicizes the arsehole himself, I’d instead like to point you to a prayer group on Facebook. In the search box on your Facebook profile page, type in ~Prayers & Good Thoughts for Nancy~ and add yourself to the group. (Or just click that link back there!) Leave well wishes, good thoughts, positive healing energy…ANYTHING happy, full of love, and up-beat. Negative Nelly’s need not apply, and if ya do, this Falcon will come peck your damn eyes out….
