First verse

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My eyes interlocked with those in the mirror and I sighed, putting the papers in my hand down on the edge of the sink. Whilst looking down, a loose thread on my new suit caught my eye and I casually pulled it out. I had to look perfect for work today what with how bad we had been doing lately. My current legacy was written in bold across the top of the newspaper.

The man hangs, but the jury doesn't

Once again we had won a case that later turned out we were wrong. An innocent man hung and yet we all live; all those who sentenced him. One more failed case and my life is over..

The second day of the trial and the building was probably just as tense as yesterday. Except... One thing had stuck on my mind throughout yesterday and today. Whilst accusing the defendant of murder, why was I checking him out? I hadn't had a boyfriend in months and it was probably to blame on me being a sucker for the guyliner dude with floppy hair. Either way it would not effect my job.

Whilst walking to the courtroom there was no escaping the mothers casting tears on both sides of the ile. both my client and the defendant's parents. I sat down in my position and tried to control my breathing. A person with anxiety is probably the worst person to be a lawyer but I had a pretty pushy mother to say the least. Time to face the world.

In a way, I had nothing to worry about. There was no question that the defendant was guilty. It was so difficult for the family to get a lawyer that they somehow got one worse than me. As the trial began a part of me was thankful that the area the defendant was sat was in view so if I felt like it I could just look a little. And I did. When the defense attorney made a point that quite frankly was an absurd idea, I had no counter argument because I didn't think something so ridiculous would come up. Most normal lawyers would be able to re-iterate their previous points to disprove the theory. But I panicked. Looking around frantically, my eyes fell upon the tanned skin and bowed head. His hair fell over one of his eyes yet I could still tell he was crying.

There was snickering in the audience yet not many seemed to notice. He glanced at his peers who he once shared a school with and then looked the other direction.

"Do not communicate with the accused please." The judge spoke interrupting the stuttering defense. Quickly the boys in the audience were hushed and I could see that the judge was clearly annoyed with the fact that both lawyers here were terrible.

Strange how looking at the beautiful young boy could not only calm me, but help steady my thoughts. The thoughts that would be giving him the death sentence. The death sentence. At least you got a choice. Hang on a rope or bated breath, whichever you prefer. But of course there is always the third option if they entirely refused. But that hasn't occurred in centuries.

I watched as another day of trial came to a close and the defendant was taken away. As he left he flicked his hair from his eyes and those chocolate eyes so full of warmth and fear, met mine. He kept staring at me for a while as he walked and I did to him. I didn't frown or show any sign of disgust, but I tried to smile. It was the first time in a long time any one I found attractive had even noticed me.


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