Applecharm11 Starhorse

Singapore

Hi! I love writing about animals, fantasy and just expressing myself through words. 'A painting paints a thousand words' so why not a thousand words form a painting?

Message to Readers

I'm hoping to receive all the criticism and suggestions to help polish this story, part by part, so it can form a decent novel story

PolarOpposites Part 2

August 16, 2017

FREE WRITING

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I've always asked myself, what happens after death?


The Sunday school teachers taught us since young, that the bad people go to hell when they die, and all the good get to go to heaven.

But what do they do there?

Is it that nice in heaven? Or is it just playing a harp for eternity?

What makes someone bad?

If they do bad things, think bad things? Say bad things?

If so, then doesn't it mean all of us have to go there? We all said bad stuff when we were kids, we all pestered our parents and siblings.

Or is bad defined by the extreme?

Like murder?

-

Chapter 1

Chylne


Athena Tan, queen of Pukit Bimah High. Dominant pack leader of the girls posse.

Is lying on the corridor, in a swimming pool of her own dirty blood.

"Oh God..." Cheryl gasped, voice whisked away like the smoke from the gun's shaking lips.

"Shit." I had stared, mouth fallen ajar. "Shit. Shit! SHIT!"

But yet despite the horror and unreal situation before us, my mind formed words even I couldn't argue with.
She deserved it.

No, I shook my head, realising what I had just thought.

She deserved worse.

-
Natalie
"Matie, can I have ice-cream?" Julia bounced beside me as I struggled to clear the table of files to put the bowls of cereal I had hastily made.

"Not at 10 AM." I shook my head, trying to get the 4-year-old to get out of the way so I could salvage any remaining juice in the fridge. 

"Pwease?" She pursed her lips, eyes widening into that puppy look.

I sigh. "Julia honey, if you woo me into feeding you ice cream for breakfast what would you're father think?"

"You're mnot my mom." She shrugged. "So why shouwd daddy care what you feed me?"

"Because even if I'm not your mom, I'm still his sister. And we've been arguing since we were born." I empty the carton of apple juice into her tiny plastic Frozen cup, where Olaf smiles in faded print. "We don't need to continue that."

"Didmn't Mommy and Daddy fight awl the time before she became amn amngewl?" She asks, cocking her head to the side curiously.

I often wondered if it was wise telling it to her that way. Though perhaps it would have made her view her mother as more human than the angels she envisioned and imagined flew down to kiss their children goodnight, when really, it was their tired sister-in-laws who delivered that motherly gift.

"Emma will be here soon, so eat your cereal. quickly or you won't be in time to help take Benjamin out for that walk you promised." I say, and the moment the baby sitter's dog is mentioned, Julia becomes a motorised machine, shovelling the Lucky Charms into her mouth, splaying milk over her mouth.

"Not that fast." I chuckle, dabbing a tissue to her pale lips.

The phone screams, demanding my attention as I make a grab for it.

Julia ignores me and continues to wolf down her breakfast.

"Hello?"

"Hey Natalie. Get down at the station. Pronto."

"Johnson?" I frowned, pressing the speaker against my ear. "What's going on?"

"You wanted a 'bigger case'. You got one."

"Wait, are you serious?"

"Kid shot a student in the school. Get down here or I'll get Richie to take her instead."

I shoot up, snatching my handbag, grabbing keys and slipping them in. "No! I'll be right there. Do NOT get that idiot of a defence attorney."

"Aumntie Matie, where are you going? Why are you so happy?" Julia blinked in stunned wonderment, empty bowl in her hands.

Before I can answer her, the doorbell rings and I literally fling it open.

Emma stares at me as if I've grown a second head, and I probably have.

"Alright, Julia, listen to Emma and be a good girl, okay?" I shout over my shoulder before brushing past the baby sitter, into my car.

I don't care what Emma thinks of me.

Afterall, most lawyers are as crazy as their clients, aren't they?

-
"Natalie Obward." I introduce myself, offering a slight smile. "I'm your lawyer."

"I don't have a lawyer." The girl mumbled, eyes still glued to the table, where her hands are settled in the grip of metal handcuffs.

"Let's see if we can get you bail, alright?" I take out my notepad. "Now, what's your name?"

"Cheryl Lindsey." Her voice was so strained I had to lean in to catch a wisp of her words.

"Alright. Age?" I eyed her. She looked about 15, no problem. Minors won't get that serious of a sentence.

But my professional eagerness flushes from me as she responds with. "18."

You have got to be kidding me.

She must see my sudden look of horror and may have interpreted it as a disbelief of her age regarding her appearance. "Well, 18 this year. I'm 17." 

I'm pretty sure my heavy exhale of relief was visible but there was still something to clear up. "And when is your birthday?"

If it was a few good months from when a trial would be tried, it was going to be okay.

"15 March."

Suddenly this case wasn't a potentially new experience, a simple invite into a higher case rank.

This was a murder trial. With two witnesses. Hard evidence. And the defendant will no longer be a minor in a month.
I realized my panic must have reflected on my face because she stares at me, squirming under my gaze as if detecting something off.

Okay Natalie, keep calm.

"Well, we'll handle that later." I offer the best smile I could under the endless flows of 'no no no' my brain hicupped. "Can you recall what you did?"

Her face grows pale.

"I didn't mean to kill her, really, I didn't!" She pleads with me in her charcoal eyes to believe her. "It wasn't supposed to end like this... I didn't want to kill her.."

"Okay, calm down. You're telling me you know you killed her?"

"I.. I.. y..yes..." She drew back, suddenly shrinking from her outright denial of intent. 

"But you didn't mean to?"

She looks at me with such pain in her eyes, I can't tell whether its guilt from being guilty of murder, or having killed someone, intentionally or not.

Well that will be for the psychologist to decide later on.

For now, I'm just trying to set bail.

"God, no.. I'd never.. I never wanted her dead... much less by me.. I didn't mean to kill her.. it was an accident!"

"Okay. Here's what's going to happen." I speak in the most collective voice I can muster under this new setting. "We're going into court where we'll see about setting bail. If not, you may need to stay in a holding cell."

"You mean I have to go to prison?" Her words are tinged with fear.

"Hopefully not. Like I said, I'll do what I can to help get you home. You just need to trust me, and do everything I say, got it?"
She meekly nods. "Okay.."

"Right, let's go."

-
Gordon
As a prosecutor, it is natural to take the side of most of the public. Spotting the flaws and the proof to use against the accused, so that you can win your case in court.

But as a mother, I am horrified to be informed of a murder at my son's school.

As a mother, the accused is guilty. The accused must be kept under lock and key, so my child can be safe.

And that's what makes my job of prosecution easier than the defence.

I can naturally fall into the side I fight for. 

But what sets me apart from the screaming paranoid mothers is that I have the ability to influence what happens.

But it must be done in a professional order.

I cannot let emotions get in the way, or I will be as good as a nuisance in the courtroom.

The judge is Judge Corniel.

Which helps me a ton, since he has seemed to sway mostly to the side of prosecution. 

Despite the fact that most of those cases were well run down by the prosecution.

Either way, I'll do my best to win this case.

-
"All rise." The bailiff says, cueing everyone to rise from their seats.

"Ms Obward, your client is here to be arraigned for the charge of first degree murder. Does the defendant plead guilty?"

"The defence pleads not guilty and requests bail on the behalf of my client, Cheryl Lindsey." 

I stare at the defence, wondering what nut job would think it would be safe to have a killer released back into public? Then again, I half pity them for having to do defend a murderer for their job.

But I am met with shock as I scan the lawyer's face.

"Ms Obward, you are aware that your client has been charged with first degree murder?" Judge Corniel spoke in a formal tone, with the hint of have-some-common-sense.

"Ah.. right.." 

If I wasn't staring at this face of a past enemy, I would almost laugh at her response.

This is her first felony.

She has no clue what she's doing.

"Your client is to be held pending her competency hearing fourteen days from today at 9 AM."

I notice her crumbling expression. She's confused. She's new.

She's helpless here.

I almost smile to myself.

Natalie Obward. Once again, she's found herself rendered usless in a new domain.

Just as she was to me years ago.


 
This is a story.. novel thing? I've been working on for fun and experience, though I'm hoping to receive criticism and suggestions to moulding this story into a decent story.

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