by Liz Lovelock
“Why did she shut you out?”
“I questioned her about the bruises she began showing up with.” I look at Jacob, and his heartless, green eyes are staring back at me. I wish I could wipe that smug look off his face.
“How often did she show up with new injuries?”
“I can’t be too sure. I only saw them every now and then, so perhaps once a week, but then she started wearing more clothes and keeping herself covered.”
“Describe Abby’s behaviour in the weeks leading up to her disappearance.”
“Her personality and even her appearance changed. She didn’t seem to care anymore and dropped her normal standard. It was like her happy and caring soul had been taken from her. Seeing it broke my heart.” My voice breaks and tears begin to fall. “Sorry,” I mumble into the tissue.
“It’s okay. When you’re ready, could you tell us about the night she disappeared?”
I nod and focus only on the prosecutor. I don’t want to look at my parents. I know my mum will be a complete mess. “Something with Abby had changed. She was a little happier, and she told me she was planning on leaving him.” I glance toward Jacob, giving him an ice-cold glare. I wish looks could kill. “I offered to go with her, but she assured me everything would be okay and she would see me later, but…” tears burn my cheeks again, “… later never came. I haven’t seen my sister since.”
The prosecutor thanks me and I’m allowed to leave the stand since Jacob’s lawyer has no questions for me. I return to my seat beside my mum.
Jacob is next to be called to the stand. When he gets up, he looks around at my family with a conceited look on his face. Arrogant arse. The anger within me is slowly reaching boiling point. I have so much hate and bitterness toward this man. I hope he gets what’s coming to him. I hope karma comes around and punches him right in the face. I’m not usually a violent person, but my parents and I have been through so much lately, and I can’t take much more.
Jacob is sworn in and takes his seat. His lawyer is first up with questioning.
“Mr. Smith, please tell the court your relationship with Abby White.” His lawyer is young, and I can only hope he’s fresh out of law school and does a terrible job.
“We were in a relationship, a happy one and so very much in love.” His voice is full of confidence. Liar!
He sits there all sure of himself, with his jet-black hair and shining fearless green eyes. If I had met him on the street, not knowing what I do now, I would have probably considered him a nice guy.
“Were you in any way abusive toward Abby?”
“No.”
“How do you explain the bruises?”
“Well, let’s just say she was a little clumsy at times and she also enjoyed things… rough.”
What? He is so full of it!
My hands begin to shake with my anger and I start looking at my hands, picking at my nails to keep my hands busy.
“Do you mean sexually?”
“Yes.”
There’s no way she was like that at all.
The questions continue to fly at him, and still he expresses no emotion as he sits up there and lies. All I hear are lies. They make my ears want to bleed. I hope they’re just as clear to the jury.
After both lawyers have finished, the jury is ushered away to make their decision. I sit in silence, praying it will all work out in our favour.
“Please stand,” I hear the court officer addressing the courtroom, pulling me out of my thoughts. I focus on the judge entering, followed by the jury. Feeling very anxious regarding the outcome, my heart is racing and my stomach is twisting in multiple knots.
“Please be seated,” says the judge, slamming his hammer down for order in the courtroom.
I actually feel like I might be sick or pass out—I’m not too sure at this point. Feeling my mother’s hand grab mine, she squeezes. It’s a good comfort, and I feel myself calm a little.
I gaze at my parents. Dad has his arm around Mum for support, and both look worn out from this whole ordeal, as I’m sure I do as well. Looking at Mum’s deep red hair, now with some grey streaks through it, I notice how similar we look with our hair and crystal blue eyes. Abby was the opposite, even though we were twins. We weren’t identical twins, but fraternal. She had beautiful brown hair like Dad. So she gained most her features from Dad, while I gained mine from Mum, but we had the same clear blue eyes.
As we sit, all I can do is hope Jacob is found guilty. Then justice will be served for my sister. I look over at him and he appears all calm and relaxed. He glances over his shoulder, catching my eye, and smiles. I feel the bile rise in my throat, so I quickly look away taking a few deep breaths to settle my stomach. I grip Mum’s hand harder.
“Has the jury reached a verdict?” asks the judge, looking toward the jury panel.
The spokesperson for the jury approaches the front, handing a piece of paper to the court officer, who takes it to the judge. My stomach is feeling like the sea in the middle of a storm. No matter how much breathing I do, it won’t calm, and if I keep the deep breaths happening, I might hyperventilate. The judge unfolds the piece of paper that holds the fate of that pathetic excuse of a human in his hand. He reads it before he presents it back to the court officer who extends it to the spokesperson.
“We, the jury, find the defendant, Jacob Smith… not guilty.”
“No! That’s not fair. He killed my sister!” I shout at the jury. I can hear my mother trying to calm me down, but all I feel right now is rage, rage and hate toward Jacob Smith. I watch him as he’s thanking his lawyer, shaking their hands, and smiling.
Oh, how I wish I could wipe that smile off his face.
I don’t realise I’m crying—sobbing actually—until my mother pulls me into her, and we cry together, standing here holding each other. Dad walks out after the verdict is read. He knows he won’t be able to control himself. I guess I get my temper from him.
I sense someone standing behind me.
“I’m sorry for your loss. I did love Abby very much.”
I whip my head around to face the scum of the earth.
Did he just say he loved her?
I look Jacob in the face. There’s no compassion in his eyes, I know he never cared for her. I don’t know what comes over me. I just see red. Straightening up, I turn my entire body toward him, and before he knows what’s happening, I clench my fist and let it fly right at his face, hitting him square in between the eyes and then smile at him.
Take that, you pathetic excuse of a man!
I look around to see the officers looking my way, but they don’t come toward me. It actually looks like they enjoyed the show.
“Oww, you bitch!” he yells while clutching his nose. I don’t think it’s broken, but it is pouring out blood. Man that makes me feel much better seeing him in pain. I nearly laugh in his face, but think better of it. It was a dumb thing to do, but I feel so much anger toward him, and he deserves every bit of pain that comes his way.
“Don’t you ever speak to us again, and you have no right talking about Abby at all. It’s your fault she’s gone!” I yell at him as my mother grabs my arm, pulling me out of the courtroom doors. “You may have got off today, but we know the truth!” I continue yelling at him.
“Stop, Melodi, you’re going to make things worse. Abby wouldn’t want you to be like this,” I hear Mum say as she finally gets me out the doors and into the parking lot before I can do more damage.
We walk to the car in silence. I notice Dad waiting for us near the car, pacing, anger written all over his face, his eyes glazed over with hate. I have never seen him looking so outraged in all my life. I look at Mum and see she’s fighting off tears. I wish there’s something I could do to take away their pain.
“I’m sorry, Mum. I know I shouldn’t have done that. Something in me snapped and it just happened.” I grab her, stopping her from walking any further. I pull her to me, wrapping my arms around her. We stand there for a short time, holding eac
h other, giving the support we both need right now. Dad comes over, joining in on the hug, and supports Mum and me while we cry. He always tries to be the strong one.
Mum pulls me out at arm’s length, looking at me with a mischievous smile on her face. She has red eyes and blotchy cheeks, but there’s a little shining light in her eyes. Looking toward Dad, she says, “You would be super proud of the punch she just gave that lowlife, honey.” She gives a sad chuckle, which sets me off giggling.
Dad looks surprised and confused. Then he pulls me into a Dad bear hug with a laugh. It feels good to be smiling and laughing with Mum and Dad again. I know it will take a while to get over our loss, but we have each other.
“Wish I could have seen it,” he beams proudly.
We let go, walking to the car.
“I love you, Mum and Dad.”
“We love you too, honey. We’re always here for you, no matter what. We need, more now than ever, to stick together,” Mum says, taking my hand giving it a light squeeze.
Someone standing near us clears their throat. “Excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. White?” We all turn to face a police officer standing before us. My heart sinks.
Oh, gosh, that punch has come back be bite me on the arse.
I look to Mum and Dad, who look concerned, as I’m sure I do too.
“Yes, that’s us,” my dad says formally. “Can we help you?”
The police officer looks really nervous as I watch small sweat beads forming on his brow. He looks young, maybe too young to be a police officer. Perhaps he’s a newbie. He has a strong build, about six foot tall, jet black hair, and bright green, sad but kind eyes. Maybe it isn’t to do with my incident.
“Ah… yes, I just wanted to let you know how sorry I am for your loss. I…” his voice catches as though he’s on the verge of tears, and he clears his throat, “… I knew Abby. I met her one day at the park. I was doing my normal rounds and I saw her sitting there alone… crying. I approached her and noticed bruises on her arms. We got to talking and I tried to get her to put out a Domestic Violence Order out on this guy and she said she would. I even gave her my number if she ever needed anything. I’m terribly sorry I didn’t do more.” He hangs his head in shame. Each word spoken is low and touches my heart.
I’m on the verge of tears and my mother has tears streaming down her face, but Dad stands tall and walks over to the young, handsome police officer.
“What’s your name, son?” Dad asks.
“Blake Johnson, sir.” His voice shakes from the emotion, or fear—I’m not sure. I do know my dad can be a scary person sometimes.
Blake is taken completely by surprise when Dad, who is not a hugging kind of guy, pulls him into a short, manly hug. A lump forms in my throat at the sight of two grown men shedding a few tears.
“You did what you could, son. Don’t beat yourself up over it. It’s no one’s fault but that lowlife’s sitting in that courtroom now with a broken nose… hopefully.” He beams proudly at me. I give a weak smile.
“I know. I guess I will always think I could… no should… have done more to help her.”
“It’s all right. Just pick yourself up and go help those you can help now. Don’t live in the past.”
“Thank you, sir.” He stretches out his hand and Dad takes it. Blake then turns toward Mum and me. “You and your sister are both beautiful women. She talked about all of you that day, how much she loved you and appreciated all your support and encouragement. She was smiling when I left her,” he says with a sad smile of his own. “Again, I’m sorry for your loss.”
Mum and I are standing here with tears still flowing down our face. I’m so grateful he approached us. To know she felt our love and found this stranger to confide in makes me happy. Hearing she still had smiling moments lifts some of the weight off my heart.
We both hug this stranger and thank him for his kind words. He walks away looking a little more relieved than he did before he approached us. I leave feeling the first glimmer of peace since the night Abby disappeared.
Beep, beep. I hear my phone go off. I groan, rolling over, and reaching out for it on the bedside table. I open my eyes a little, noticing it’s still dark out. I groan again in frustration.
Who messages this early?
Squinting at the brightness, I try to see who the message is from through blurry eyes.
Mum: Hey, honey, good luck with the job interview today. I will call you later.
Love you!
Mum and Dad xo
P.S. Sorry, I know it’s early.
Trust Mum to message me at this time of the morning. Looking at the time and discover it’s five a.m. “Are you kidding me? Come on, Mum. You knew I would be sleeping.” Feeling a little frustrated, I know Mum’s working early shifts at the hospital, but she could have just rung me later.
It’s been a month since I moved to New York. I needed a change. Plus, I needed to get the bad memories of my hometown out of my mind and living there was always a constant reminder of what had happened to Abby.
The anniversary of her death is coming up soon. I miss her every day and the pain is still unbearable at times. I find myself waking up crying some nights. The memory of that part of my life is always fresh in my mind, a constant reminder to never trust a guy, no matter how great he may seem.
It was our shared dream to move to New York, work and party it up while we were young. Maybe even travel around a little. We always had a fascination with Europe, especially Italy, but now it’s just me. I feel lost and alone some days.
I have met some great people since moving here. There’s Felicity, or Flick, as I like to call her. She works at the recruitment company that I applied to when I first moved here. We clicked right away. She loves hearing me talk with my Aussie accent. My family moved to America when Abby and I were eighteen. Dad got a transfer in the Army, so we moved to Philadelphia. Dad was away most of the time, but Mum, Abby, and I settled in pretty well in our new home state. It’s just Mum and Dad at home now since Dad retired. We got our green cards and decided to stay.
Flick figured I knew nothing about New York, which I didn’t, so she took me under her wing, showing me the great restaurants, nightclubs, and the best shopping spots. I can’t believe the hot guys around. I still keep my distance, but can’t help looking.
She has been putting my name in for all the high paying jobs, which is great, although nothing has come of it yet.
Hopefully, today will be my lucky day, I think as my stomach begins swarming with butterflies at the thought of today’s interview. The meeting is with Case Constructions, a building development company, as a Personal Assistant to the head honcho. I know there will be plenty of other worthy applicants. Here’s hoping.
Then there is Liam, smart, sexy, funny Liam. I get a little heart flutter thinking about him. We met on my first night out on the town with Flick. It was a pretty big night, with lots of tequila shots and dancing. Next thing I remember is waking up at home with Flick beside me in my bed. I walked into the living area and nearly died at the sight of this unknown shirtless guy asleep on my couch. Totally freaked, I ran back to my room, waking Flick up. I literally had to lift her up by her shoulders to shake her awake. While still half asleep, she proceeded to tell me how I’d invited him to stay, as his place was an hour out of town. And so began the adventures of Flick, Liam, and Melodi.
Liam is a legal aid. I’m sure he has a thing for Flick, and either she’s blind or just isn’t interested. When they’re together, they flirt like nobody’s business. But then if there’s another guy who shows interest, she brushes Liam off—the poor fella. I think I might need to intervene there a little, but right now, I think I should get a few more hours sleep. Rolling over, placing my phone back on to the bedside table, and pulling my blankets up, I snuggle back into my large comfy bed.
Then the wonderful feeling of wandering off into dreamland sets in.
Glancing at my watch for the hundredth time, I struggle to sit still. There’s still thre
e girls to go, plus myself. There were seven of us here for interviews. Nerves are beginning to kick in. My stomach feels likes there’s a million butterflies waiting to escape up to my throat and out my mouth.
Case Constructions is in a big, snazzy, high-rise building. It has maybe thirty floors, although, not all are Case Construction. I was worried that I might not get off on the right floor it’s that big.
I really hate interviews, but I really need this job. I can’t keep relying on Mum and Dad to pay for everything, especially my nights out on the town.
When I walked into the room where the other girls were waiting, I felt all their eyes on me, kind of like they were sizing me up. I took the first seat closest to the door. That way, I was out of the line of fire from all the judgemental looks, not only toward me but toward each other.
Some are pretty, well groomed, and are probably hoping to get the job based solely on their looks. Then there’s the average girl, the one who has her hair pulled back into a simple ponytail, along with her basic black pencil skirt and red silk, button-up shirt.
Okay, maybe there’s only one girl like that—me.
I’m your average girl and the rest are the rich bitch looking types.
As each agonising minute ticks by, I watch as all the other girls go in before me, all leaving giggly and confident.
Seriously, why did I even try?
I’m sure one of these girls are sure to get this job.
I can’t sit still anymore. It’s me and one other girl remaining. I’m ready to get up and pace the room, or run laps, actually. I’m not a silly girl. I know how people with companies as large as Case Constructions prefer the supermodel type who have the perfect face, which attracts more business to their company. I’m not saying I’m ugly. I’m happy in my own skin, and if these people aren’t happy with me, then it’s their loss.
“Melodi White?” I hear a lady call from the doorway. I glance up and watch her walk in. She’s maybe in her thirties and has a kind face.
