the court room


 A young man, about the age of twenty was being accused for his mother’s murder. The courtroom was quiet and only the sound of pen touching paper could be heard. The judge looked up at me,” Please can Mrs. Slote, step up onto the witness stand,” he said. I looked around the room, and did as he had told me to.

When I got onto the witness stand, the judge stared at me hard in the eye. It was silent for quite a while, before the judge broke it by asking me,” So what did you see or hear, on the night of the 1st July, at around 11pm”. Slowly, I looked around the courtroom, all I could see was about 100 pairs of eyes, watching me,” You see, I woke up at around 11:05, because a scream could be heard”, I responded,” and so, because of this, I looked out of my front window. Only to see a short figure run off towards Clovern Street”.

“So the man was running off towards Clovern Street?” said the judge, half questioning and half stating.”Yes, well I wasn’t quite sure that it was man but he or she did run to Clovern Street”, I replied. It was then, that I noticed a short stoat man standing behind the judge, writing down everything that the judge and I had discussed. ”And what was this man wearing and holding?” the judge asked.

“If I am not very much mistaken, I think he was wearing his night gown”, I answered. “And what was he holding”, queried the judge. I looked around in hesitation, “I am not quite sure”, said I. At this, everybody gasped, and started mumbling to each other. The judge’s face started to grow red from his frustration, he violently banged his gavel and shouted at the top of his voice, “ORDER, ORDER!!” even so still some carried on mumbling to each other, and so he shouted even louder than the first time, ORDER, ORDER!!” When some saw how red with frustration he looked, they stopped immediately.

After the mumbling had stopped, the judge seemed to forget about me, and moved onto a couple more witnesses. Until he got to another witness. Only, this one had a serious expression on his face, where as the others seemed to look as though they felt a little more relaxed. But mind you, I did not know whether I looked serious or relaxed, but I was quite sure that I was relaxed.  The witness was a tall slim person, with short brown hair. It was apparent that he lived somewhere in Allen Street, but I could not remember ever seeing him before. This made may brain wonder, especially because I lived in Allen Street.

After one more witness, the judge was about to sentence the accused man guilty, but before, he could say a word, a middle-aged man, banged open the door and said in a loud tone, “I here, have the proof of the innocence of this young man”. Everybody watched him run down the aisle to the judge. The judge picked up the note that had been put gently down on his table, and carefully skim-read it. After a few minutes, the judge turned red and allowed the young man to go.

To this day no-one knows what was written on the note, but some say that the judge was sacked and could never be seen again.

The End

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