Cover Band

Chapter Twenty Eight

I have a trial today. I haven't seen sunlight since they found me, I think they've lost all hope. I've been kept in some sort of solitary beneath the actual institute. They told me that it will just be them and my lawyers with me at the trial, they didn't say it, but I know it's because my dad doesn't want to see me. My mother hates me apparently. Well, I wouldn't know, I haven't heard from her. They told me that when I asked if she would see me, they cried and told me no.

I have Ethan to keep me company sometimes. He says things to me, mean things. I don't think he likes me very much, I don't think anyone likes me. I killed real Ethan, but now whatever is left keeps tormenting me when I just want him to STOP!

I heard the door creak open and I watched as light slowly crept into the room. Massika was stood there, her face blank and devoid of any emotion. "It's time to go," she said solemnly. The others had come to give me clothes to wear to court a few hours or so before, I was wearing a long black dress, as if I were going to a funeral rather than a hearing.

I slowly stood up and walked out, Massika in front of me and Ethan trailing behind. Ethan was talking to someone in a hushed voice, although I didn't dare look back, afraid of what I might see. All I knew was that if it was someone else like Ethan, it would be nothing good.

.............................

They told me just to sit and watch, they didn't want me messing anything else up and I do suppose that's fair. I sat, I watched, and I listened as strangers decided my fate.

"Order in the court!" The Clerk spoke loudly, "All Rise! The Honourable Madam Justice Miller presiding."

We all rose from our seats in unison, sitting back down when told to by the judge. It was a rather harrowing environment to be in, movies made it far more exciting than it actually is, it's terrifying really.

"The case of the murder of Ethan Radford and Liam Brown my Lady," The Clerk said, I could feel my heart skip a beat at the mention of both murders, it's still hard to believe it was me who actually killed them. I suppose I had still been holding on to some sort of hope that this was all some horrible prank.

"Thank you. Are all parties present?" The judge asked.

"Yes my Lady," The prosecution said, rising from his seat, "I am Richard Jones, acting on behalf of the state in this matter."

My lawyer stood from where he was beside me, my father may not be here, but he still hired the best and the brightest to defend me. "My Lady, I am Thomas Wilson, I am acting on behalf of the accused, Cléophée Radford."

"Thank you," The Judge said, "Cléophée Radford, please rise to hear charge."

I rose slowly along with the Clerk and my lawyer, "Cléophée, you are charged that on or about the nineteenth of August, in the year 2020, and on or about the thirteenth of December, in the year 2020, you did unlawfully cause the death of Ethan Radford and Liam Brown and thereby commit murder in the second degree. How do you plead?"

"G-guilty," I sad, stuttering a tad at the beginning.

"Thank you, Madam Registrar," The Judge said, indicating that we sit. She droned on for a while about all of the boring stuff that we need to know, what our roles and the evidence required. "I now call upon the Clerk to swear the defendant in."

The Clerk swore me in as I sat on the stand, and I looked across to my lawyer for help, we had practised this before, but the thought of doing it made me sick when I knew that what I said then would decide my sentence.

"I am going to question you about the facts of the crime alleged and your decision to plead guilty; you have been placed under oath, and it is important for you to tell me the truth. If you say something here under oath that you know is not true, you could be charged with committing perjury. If you intentionally lie under oath, the things that you say could be used against you in a criminal prosecution; also, I would not give you credit for pleading guilty and your sentence in this case would be higher. Do you understand all that?"

"Yes," I answered weakly, my hands shaking.

"What is your name?"

"Cléophée Daisy Radford."

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"How far did you go in school?"

"I'm in the middle of my senior year."

"Do you read and write? Have you understood me so far?"

"Yes, and yes."

"If there is something I say that you do not understand, or if you have a problem understanding a question I ask, please tell me and ask me to explain or repeat it. Do you understand that?"

"Yes."

"Are you feeling the effects right now of any medication, drugs or alcohol that you have consumed?"

"No."

"Are you being treated by any medical or mental health professional?"

"Yes."

"Do you feel alert, awake and clear-headed today."

"Yes."

The Clerk then turned to my attorney and spoke to him, "Are you aware of any negative information concerning the defendant's competence that I should be aware of?"

"No," My attorney answered confidently, he sounded more confident than I did anyway.

"I find that the Defendant is thinking clearly, not under the influence of intoxicants, and is competent to offer a guilty plea at this time," The Clerk spoke again.

The Clerk continued asking questions after that and I answered them all honestly, never giving away more information than required. It got to a point again where they began asking me of my decision to plead guilty.

"Your plea of guilty is a result of discussions between the attorney for the government and your attorney. I have not been part of those discussions. I have not approved of this agreement in advance or predicted any particular sentence for you. Do you understand that?"

"Yes," I answered, my voice shaking slightly after the mention of a sentence.

"Are you confident that your attorney fully explained the agreement to you before you signed it?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to live by the terms of that agreement?"

"Yes."

"The government has a recommendation that your sentence should be at a particular level. I will carefully consider the recommendation, but I cannot guarantee that I will follow it. I will if I think it's proper. Whether or not I follow it, you will not be allowed to back out of your plea because this is a permanent decision on your part. Do you understand that?" The Judge spoke.

"Yes," I answered, knowing the sentence won't be good, no matter how bad this mental illness is.

.............................

"I charge the defendant guilty with second degree murder on both accounts. Cléophée Radford will be sentenced to death by lethal injection on February first, 2021," The Judge stated and it suddenly felt as if my world had stopped. I felt sick and dizzy, I almost didn't hear the Clerk announce that it was adjourned.

I'm going to die in two months and it's all my fault. I can't even blame anyone else for this no matter what I do or say, I'm going to be hauled away to a proper women's prison and I'm going to die. I have a mental illness, a disorder, a problem. I should be sent to a rehabilitation or that institute again, not death. I can't die. I don't want to die. I didn't want anyone to die.

"Bye-bye," Ethan said, waving as they dragged me out of the courtroom.

I watched him as they took me away, his large grin and cold eyes haunting me as I began to spiral out of control.