“Mr. Patel, for the last time, please control your client.”
“Mr. Patel!”
***
"Hi there, my name is Franklin, and I would like to tell you a story. At the end of the story, I would like you to answer a question. Was I right or wrong?"
“Weirdo”. Why does that keep ringing in my head? What is this feeling in the pit of my stomach? I upped myself and walked out of my room to the sobbing of mother. She stood in the sitting room, head in hand with the phone pressed tightly against her temple. ‘Mother,’ I called out. She turned to look at me, her eyes reddened. She was sobbing uncontrollably.
“She isn’t picking up Franklin.”
“I will go check at school,” I said. “Wait, let's go together,” she retorted, running to grab her keys. “No, mother. Wait here, in case she comes back.” “You’re right,” she resigned. “Oh God, please keep her safe,” she sobbed as I shut the door behind me. I let out a sigh and downed the stairs. I looked in the sky and observed the drowning of the sun. “God?” I muttered. I headed for school, casually, shuffling between steps. I believed there was a high chance she was fine. But then there was that scream, and. “Weirdo”.
“Francis.”
I was now standing at the school gate, peering left and right for any clues. Suddenly, I felt the vibration of my phone and reached into my pocket. It was Mother. I picked up and was startled by her screaming. “They found her, THEY FOUND HER!” She screamed repeatedly. “Franklin! She’s gone, Franklin,” she wailed. I dropped my hand to my side, and suddenly everything was silent. I looked to the sky and embraced its darkness. I had been standing still for several minutes. I lifted my phone to check the time and saw several missed calls from mother. Suddenly, it began to ring. It was Mother. I picked up the call and saw headlights at a distance. They closed in, and I noticed it was mother. She came to a stop right in front of me, phone in hand. She glared at me, her eyes widened. “What are you doing here?” she asked. I don't respond, and she continued, “Get in”.
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We drove off. The ride was quiet. I was pleased. Now I feel guilty for feeling that way.
***
The car suddenly came to a stop, and I turned to peer past the dashboard. There were orange tapes everywhere; the place had been wardened off. “Mike?!” Mother called out, uncertain; it was dark. The frame shifted, and the red of the sirens filtered to reveal Mike. He is a friend of the family. He was now looking in our direction, but remained still. He dropped his head and caressed his eyeballs with his hand. I knew nothing good would come from that.
Mum, finally having had enough, fumbled with-
Mother, finally having had enough, fumbled with the car door handle. Finally gripping it, she snapped it and jumped out of her seat. She slammed the door and ran into the darkness. I unlocked the door, opened and dropped to a bed of dried leaves. I walked calmly, observing the crunching sound of the leaves as my boots dropped on them.
Now I could see mother in Mike's embrace. She was shaking, sobbing. “Let me see her!” She screamed. He held her tightly as she tried to shuffle out of his hold. I looked past the tapes, waiting for my eyes to discover a clue. But nothing. I thought of walking further to the right to get a different angle. After a few steps, I saw a few medical staff marching out into the filtered siren lights. I moved closer to get a better look and spotted it; those weren’t Cindy’s hands. I was relieved. Cindy's thumb had a curved cap; this person’s was triangular.
“Get back, kid. The tapes are there for a reason”. “Mike!” the officer called out to report me. I had already taken several steps towards where mother stood. I wanted to tell her about my discovery. I was close enough now and saw mother holding tightly to something in her hand. She loosened her grip, and I saw it. “Cindy’s bun?” I muttered in disbelief. “You should head back now, Sandra,” Mike said. “Robinson,” he called out for his partner. “I need you to drive Sandra home.” He continued. I remained planted, deep in thought. Then I felt a tug on my shoulder. I turned to the dark forest and observed the little shimmers on mother’s car. Officer Robinson pulled mother into himself and headed for our car with a flashlight in hand. He turned his head to look at me and continued trudging. Suddenly, I couldn’t hear the crunching of branches beneath my boots. We closed in on the car at the same time as though moving in unison. I spotted an oddity right where I had dropped from the car. It was a hand. And the thumb wasn't triangular.
Who do you think is on trial?
