Oh, Pineapples.

Travis's pov

_-_-_-_

Trial for Travis Parker, set date 5th June 2015.

The poster board I could barely lay my eyes on—mainly because of the fact that was basically being dragged into the courtroom by the muscularly built execution officers on either side of me—read, in bold. As if I could forget.

Today.

Three suns had passed by the small window by the corner in my jail cell and the cold hard floors and the reeking stench of urine would do nothing to make me forget that I would get tried in the courtroom after that.

"Look buddy, I'mma be real honest with you—Jacob Wilson? The owner of Wilson and Co. Law Firm?He's a bit of tough nut, I'll tell you that! And to top it all off, you causing trouble with his only daughter? I know damn well you smarter than that son!" He pointed his stubby finger toward me.

"Aye, old man, I'm not sitting here for you to give me multiple speeches—I got my 'rents doing that every other day, alright? Just tell me what I gotta testify in court so I can get outta this mess," I spoke through gritted teeth, as though to not let the security guard monitoring us on to some secret—that our family's lawyer and I knew.

"See kid that's the thing, ain't no getting out of this one. It's bad enough that you're already eighteen–" his sigh strained, due to his smokers cough. "So the jury won't let you off the hook as a minor, you see. Defending yourself won't do you any good, you assaulted a minor. So you've got a plea deal on the table," he coughed into his elbow.

"The fuck is a plea deal?"

"You basically gotta plead guilty to the jury." He shuffled through some papers he had taken out in a plain brown envelope.

"But I didn't do it!" I half yelled through grinned teeth slammed the table with my fist, startling the family seated on the table next to us.

"I don't give a rats ass if you did it or not, what's important here to try and get you as few years as possible cooped up in that cell." He started

"If you take the plea deal you could just get six years, or hopefully five, on good behavior and then community service on the rest of the year."

"And if I plead innocent?" My leg from under the table jerked up and down impatiently.

"Well kid, that could go one of two ways," he switched the receiver to his other ear, "the jury could approve your appeal and you could walk out a free man. And chances of that happening are dangerously low so we can't go on and risk that. A powerful guy like Jacob Wilson? You stand no chance. Him and the judge are practically family–you know how that goes, don't ya?

Besides that, you don't got any sort of proof against Jasmine, do you? But I'm betting Jasmine has a shitload of proof against you,"

"What do you mean proof?"

"Bruises, marks or maybe phone conversations and also probably surveillance footage from the skating rink. Anything can be proof, really. Especially if her dad's got a shit ton of money, they're gonna have a really good lawyer."

I hated the fact that I wished I had carried the business card with me. But I would never consider turning to the card. I wasn't that desperate.

Could she really have bruises? Dramatic bitch.

The skating rink couldn't really have cameras, could it?

I sigh in defeat "I'll take the plea deal."

•–6 weeks later–•

"Appeal for bail denied. The suspect will serve a year in Ridgewood Juvenile Centre, continuing five years in Ridgewood Community Prison. The court is adjourned. Next case!" The grey haired man banged his gavel loudly.

It hadn't dawned on me before that I was set to spend six years in prison.

Six years.

Because of Jasmine fucking Wilson.

Besides the flashing lights and the loud shattering of the cameras I was annoyed at how hard the officers pulled at my arms as if I would even dare escaping.

"Do you think you deserve to spend six years in solitary confinement?" A reporter yelled distantly.

No of course the fuck not.

"Where does this leave your relationship with the Wilson's?" Another one spoke, pointing a microphone at my face.

I never wanted to have anything to do with Jasmine and neither do I.

The Wilson's will pay. I wanted to yell, loud enough for her to hear.

Loud enough for them to be scared. I would make them regret what they did to my mother. I would make them regret throwing me in jail.

Nothing was going to stop me.

***
so there it is ladies and gents, the infamous Travis's POV heheh. so obviously this is supposed to make everything else make sense, as I'm trying to conclude the book but yeah I'm still a little far.

so comment, or don't lol I can't really keep telling you what to do, but please please vote THAT I insist on😂.

thank you for reaching this far, like seriously. i really like writing, it gets my mind off things and it gives me an even better feeling to know that someone out there is actually reading this :) *literal tears

soo with kithes and pineapplesss
-nicole <3