He frowned at his ruffled sleeve as he approached the door of his soon-to-be repossessed car, a luxury brand financed by his former corporation as an incentive. His career, all he had worked so hard for, was brought crashing by his own hands. Years of ass-kissing and bootlicking just to climb the corporate ladder, the number of people estranged because of it, it was nothing now. A tender voice came from behind.

“You’re gonna be fine.”

Laura. She was still supportive even through all of this. He had actually dared to maltreat her when all she ever did was love and support him. He didn’t deserve her. Her arms wrapped around his waist, her strawberry scent filling his nose.

“I’m sorry, this is all my fault” He sighed as he held her hands.

“It isn’t,” She whispered into his ears. “I had a part to play too.”

“But if I had just—”

“It’s already happened. All we can do now is move forward so we can be better for him...when he wakes up.”

“Let’s go, or we’ll be late,” He said after seconds of silence had passed.

“Ok.”

He patted down his sleeve, clasping the door handle. Today was the day, the court hearing of his case. Anxiety gnawed at the back of his mind, even though she refused to testify, and he hired a good lawyer, uncertainty still remained. What if he was convicted? What if he had to leave Laura all alone to cater for their comatose son

‘No! Positive thoughts’

“Mark?” She called from inside, her neck stretched towards the driver seat.

“Right,” He replied and entered the car; he inserted the key into the ignition. Her hand covered his. Their eyes locked briefly as she offered him support in that moment of silence. He nodded and twisted the key.

“Tie,” She reminded, pointing to his naked neck.

“Can’t believe I forgot,” He said, quickly rushing into the house.

‘Where is it?’

His eyes darted around, scrutinizing every inch of the bedroom.

“Yes,” He exclaimed as he spotted it lying on the dresser. He darted back out, furiously knotting as he entered the car.

“Does it look okay?” He asked after tying it.

“It’s fine,” She replied with a smile.

He nodded and hit the accelerator. Today could be the end or a new beginning. He couldn’t count on luck; it never failed in failing him. But his chances of getting out from this were very slim. His stomach twisted, contemplating it as he drove. He looked at Laura. She seemed so calm like she knew the outcome.

‘How can she be so calm?’

She caught him staring.

“Hey, focus on the road,” She reprimanded.

“Oh, sorry,” He said and faced the windshield. A small white car was a few meters ahead of them, but that was it. Nothing else, the road was lonely this morning.

‘Strange’

It seemed like the world was somehow in sync with his misery, but what did the white car ahead represent? The road was his journey in life, once filled with people, now utterly deserted.

‘Hope?’ ‘No, there’s none, for me at least.’

Either outcome would bring new challenges. If he was acquitted, the bills still remained; finding another job at his age was incredibly hard. Insurance could only cover so much. Finger-shaped depression surfaced on the side of the steering wheel, evidence of his anxiety. He made a left turn, and the courthouse came into view. He gulped as he stared at it before going to find parking.

The car parked, the engine turned off. He froze in the car, not wanting to go forward.

“I can’t do this,” he sobbed, his head on the steering. Standing in front of those judgemental eyes as his sins were laid bare - an alcoholic wife-beater. He Imagined their looks of disdain and disgust as the image of a vile criminal filled their heads.

“No, no, no. Be strong, for our son.” Her voice reassured him. “We’ll get through this.”

“Alright,” He said, pulling himself together.

They walked outside towards the courthouse. A stream of people walked out with different expressions. It was always this way, no matter the outcome of a court judgment there would always be those who were in favor of it and those against it. His lawyer Richard was waiting for him in the public seating area amongst many others.

There was a trial currently being held, so he would have to wait his turn. Right behind the short swinging doors with railings on each side stood a man at the defendants’ table. The witnesses against were all injured policemen, no less than twenty of them. A chill went down his spine, this was a hardened criminal with no remorse for whatever he’d done. But, there was no difference between them in the eyes of his neighbors, the eyes of the jury, the eyes of the law.

The proceedings had begun. He noticed the look on the judge’s face, tired. She was tired. He couldn’t tell why. Troubles at home, the everyday hassle of her job, or this specific case. Maybe this wasn’t her first time seeing that man and each time he got away with it. It sounded plausible because the man seemed pretty confident along with his lawyer.

The court was deathly quiet. Wayward glances were thrown around. And he swore that he heard the judge muttering under her breath as she rearranged the files before her.

“Let’s get this over with”

The prosecutor stood up. Hardly any tension amongst the jury. His voice came forth murdering the silence. He said a few words to the judge but it suddenly fizzled, Mark saw the prosecutor’s lips moving but there was no sound. Soon it was replaced by an indistinct tune. The more he strained to listen, the fainter the sound became. His gaze moved over to the witness stand.

He saw the fury in their eyes. The hatred ran deeper than those injuries. The man’s lawyer stood. His lips moved quickly and the prosecutor’s lips moved in response. They were in some sort of mini argument of which he heard not a single word. The tune was louder but yet Mark couldn’t still make it out.

Soon, the atmosphere became animated and arms flew around in protests. It seemed the tune had reached a high point with short bursts of rhythm. The gavel shot down bringing the music and commotion to an abrupt halt.

The eerie silence lasted for only but a moment, soon a chord was raised- the unlocking of a steel briefcase. Rays of light bounced around it highlighting it in the courtroom. Something wrapped tightly in cloth was the center of the show. All eyes were drawn to the mysterious gray cloth. The prosecutor’s hand unwrapped it slowly, and as the object revealed itself, the defendant turned to stone.

It was a dainty little thing, a USB stick. Why it was wrapped so dramatically would remain a mystery to Mark. A deep humming arose amongst the soul-stirring symphony of instruments. Abloom in the life of the slow arrangements as the humming became ever-increasing. The smirk on the prosecutor's face, the uneasy look of the lawyer, the icy gaze of the defendant, and the curious stares of the jury. Words flowing, scales tipping things turning.

The defendant’s gaze fixated on the prosecutor as the silver USB was inserted and the contents bared for the world to see. Everything now abstracted to blurry shapes and forms. Little feet, he remembered little feet running across the soft white sand. Smiles and peals of laughter, sand caught in between her little fingers and the ever so gentle breeze. It was three days before she died.

He remembered that day, she came running to him just as the sun began to dim

“Daddy!!! Come play with us, mom’s signing a peace treaty with big brother’s fort” She said, tugging him.

“Is that so?” He asked at the time.

“Yes, they’re forming an alliance to take down my fort, Rosara.” She said with a sense of urgency in her little voice.

“We can’t have that now, can we?” He replied, lifting her onto his shoulders. “To war!” He declared and charged towards two figures and a sandcastle in the distance.

“War!” She squealed in response.

It happened in a flash. There was the sound of her crying rushing to report another mistreatment by her brother followed by a scream and a loud thud. He only rushed to find her at the base of the stairs in a pool of blood. The ambulance arrived in minutes but it was too late. She was declared dead moments after their arrival.

His beautiful daughter, full of so much joy but the cruelty of this world had caught up to her. Her voice, her smile, her laughter now distant, only to be found etched in the depth of memories.

The music slowly came to an end. Leaving lonely barren emptiness behind. He heard a voice somewhere from the corner.

“The song was playing out all this while? Stupid phone” Followed by a grumble of obscenity.

Detail returned to his vision. It was a kid around the same age as his son. He was a fledgling reporter at least that’s what the notes and recorder he had implied.

The kid packed up his stuff in a school bag, his eyes telling he was ready to leave. Then another voice erupted.

“Court Dismissed!”

And people left in droves passing by with a great deal of chatter.

“Mark” Laura called from the side. “You're crying”

“I am?” He asked, touching his face.

A gruff voice spoke from behind with a hand placed on his shoulder. It was Richard.

“Mark, it’s time.”