"Defend Me, Attorney." (Law Series #1)

PART THREE: THE PROSECUTOR

The place was full of happy colors. In fact, alphabets and painted animals can be seen in every corner.

Similarly, joyful faces can be seen on everyone's face.

"Okay, kids!" a woman said, wearing a uniform that seemed like a teacher. "I want you to draw what you wanna be in the future."

"A police!" one shouted, even raising his hand.

The woman smiled.

"I said draw," and looked at the class. "After thirty minutes teacher will check it, ha? You want stars?"

"Opo!" they all shouted. The teacher then gave an encouraging smile. "Then start now!"

Everyone started drawing their dream job. With the possession of coloring materials, everyone seemed to enjoy the activity. Some drew a doctor, a teacher, policeman, chef, flight attendant, engineer, dentist and more but among all the usual professions, someone's drawing was different.

"Ano sa'yo?" a girl with her ponytail asked.

The boy looked at her, shy. "Hindi ko alam..."

"Ano 'yan?" the teacher then asked, bewildered on the drawing she saw.

"I don't have a dream, teacher," the boy reasoned out, casually.

What the teacher saw were two drawings. The left showed a man beating his family, and the right showed a happy family.

"The only dream I have," the innocent child said. "...is to finally see dad stop beating my mom..."

I opened my eyes.

What was that?

"Okay ka lang?" a voice asked and I recognized it. It was the public defender assigned to Traise's case.

"Nakaidlip ka na," he added. "Hindi na kita ginising, mukha kang pagod."

There, I noticed where I was at. I was inside a room in the detention center designated for trial queries. It had been days since he asked me to defend him and days since I probably had lost my sanity. I kept on reading related cases and interviewing authorities to get a grasp of the case. In fact, tomorrow will be his first trial.

I wiped the tears in my eyes.

"Umiiyak ka?" the defender asked.

"No," I calmly said. "Sa panaginip siguro, sir."

He understandingly nodded.

"Don't call me sir," he said. "Our age gap isn't that much. Just call me Newt. That's my name."

I smiled back. "Sure, Newt."

I looked at my best friend, Traise, who was sleeping on the opposite side of the table. His face was facing me. As I looked at him, he still has the face of a man who carries the world on his shoulder. He has the face of a child who got abused and exploited at a very young age.

I can remember still how his body got daily bruises. I can remember how his dad let him starved. I can remember how he would usually be beaten up even with the presence of his friends. I can remember how he endured every single thing. Nevertheless, he grew up as a really good man.

"Newt, do you think he did it?" I asked the defender, looking at Traise still.

"At first I thought so," then he looked at him too. "But now, I'm confused."

I smiled. "I know. He has the most genuine mouth and realistic eyes and that's the problem. His mouth says he did, but I can see in his eyes that he didn't. It's confusing, I don't know anymore."