“So, Mrs. Adebisi... you're pleading NOT GUILTY after what you did?“, the judge looks at the accused with an eyebrow raised.
She looks up with guilt and tears threatening to escape her eyes. All she could think of was his body just collapsing onto the floor with blood seeping through his shirt. She hadn’t meant to, she’s not even sure if she pulled the trigger or not, but it was in her hand. That’s all she knew.
“Mrs. Adebisi? What is your plead?“, the judge repeats but this time with a tone of impatience.
Taking a huge breath in, she sighs and finally lets it out.
“Just two days ago, you were found with a gun in your house. You shot your husband, is that correct?“.
“Well it wasn’t my gun. I didn’t mean to shoot him, I really didn’t. I swear”, she exclaims. The tears made their way down her cheeks involuntarily as she listened to the judge.
“After all I’ve heard in the past 30 minutes, all evidence points at you”.
“So, my decision, Mrs. Adebisi”.
She looks up at the judge already knowing what she was going to say.
“I looked over e-”
“Don’t sugar coat it. Just give me your decision”, she cuts the judge off who leans back into her chair and tilts her eyebrow slightly.
“You think am wrong?”
“Doesn’t matter what I think. You already made your decision the moment that I walked into this room. Why would you understand why what happened, happened? Am black and Muslim. It makes sense that such a thing would happen to someone like me. Didn’t it? Now don’t sit there and act like what am saying is wrong. We both know am right”, she vents out with her emotions getting the better of her.
“Race and religion have n-“.
She scoffs then shakes her head and wipes her cheeks.
“Really? It doesn’t? Tell that to the millions of people that haven’t done anything wrong but were put to jail JUST BECAUSE THEY WERE BLACK. Or Muslim. You really want to debate with me over this? I got all day because apparently, based on your decision, am not going anywhere anytime soon. Now am I?“, she snaps.
The judge did nothing except stare at her, not with anger or annoyance, but with empathy. It’s as if she could feel her pain through her shaky…yet firm voice. She sounded, exhausted, fed up, like she just gave up.
The judge looks towards Mark, her lawyer. She hums silently and starts drumming her pen against the desk repeatedly before sitting upright.
“Do you have proof? Witnesses? Anything to prove her innocence?“, she asks him.
“Yes, I just need a few minutes to gather some information”, he nods in response.
“You have 5 minutes”, she tells him before standing up and walking out of the court room.
“You might have a shot”, Mark tells her with a smile before he rushes out of the court room.