I took Law Enforcement because all the other classes were full. The class I had wanted was Home Economics, but that was stocked up and couldn't hold another person.

Well, not all the other classes were full. Student Leadership was up for the taking but just the idea of standing up in front of thousands of people and making speeches made me queasy. So, I was stuck with Law Enforcement.

Sitting here in a classroom made to look like an exactly like replica of an ordinary courtroom, though, I really wished I had taken Home Ec.

The teacher of the class, Mr. Miller, was the Judge. I was the prosecutor. A girl named Melanie Harper was the defense attorney.

The case we had now had to do with that of a sophomore boy who had allegedly punched a freshman in the face by the name of Jessica Ferguston, causing her to fall rather hard on the concrete ground outside of the school and break her right arm.

The thing I did not like about Law Enforcement was how intense it got, and how intense I usually had to get to get a good grade.

Each person in the class had to pick a position at the beginning of the year and stick with that position until the end of the school year. I picked prosecutor because I couldn't decide what else to do.

"You swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?" I watched as a short, stocky guy who was to serve as the clerk of the "court" thrusted a thick, worn Bible before Mrs. Hawkins, the victim's mother, and instructed her to place her left hand on it and raise her right hand.

"Yes," Mrs. Hawkins said in a voice that carried, her face unreadable. "I do".

My back stiffened. I knew what came next. At the slight nod from Judge Miller sitting up front, Melanie stood and walked towards her client. "Could you state your name and address for the record, please?" Melanie said.

"Diane Hawkins," Mrs. Hawkins said. "4604 Lakeshore Road".

"And could you tell us how you know Brian Ferguston?" Melanie nodded towards the defendant who was sitting in the front row; shoulders slumped, reddened ears.

"I don't know him".

Melanie forced a smile, took a sideways glance at the jury, which consisted of eight senior students and four teachers. "Are you married?"

"Yes".

"Age?"

"I'm 36".

"Mrs. Hawkins, tell us about your daughter".

Diane took a deep breath and smiled. "She's a wonderful girl," She said. "Very sweet, very quiet, just wonderful. She has such a great mind, and she's such a good swimmer, too! Oh, my, did you know that? Oh, yes, she was".

I snorted. If Melanie heard me, she made no notice.

"Sounds like Jessica was very special to you".

"Oh, yes," Diane said remotely, her eyes drifting towards the defendant. "Very special".

God, she's such an idiot! I screamed in my head. What the hell kind of thing was that to say? Of course she was special to her!

"What was she like growing up?"

"Objection," I called. "Do we really have to sit through sixteen years of this?"

Judge Miller's gaze slid towards Melanie. "Let's get on with it, Counselor".

"Can you tell me about your relationship with Jessica, Mrs. Hawkins?"

"Jess and I…" Mrs. Hawkins paused. "Well, our relationship was very special".

"Can you go into detail?"

Diane stared directly at the jury. "We spent a great deal of time together". She began to talk, her words like a book's, each chapter bringing back to life all the things they used to do when Jessica was a child, tween, and even now as a teenager. She would spend time with me after school. We'd go grocery shopping and buy her favorite foods on the weekends. She knew he could talk to me about anything.

Her eyes were shining and, for a minute, I was sure she was going to start crying. But she didn't, and I was grateful.

"Was there anything that Jessica thought she couldn't tell you?"

"Objection," I called again. Melanie pretended not to hear her. At Diane's curious look her way I saw her silently mouthed for her to do the same.

"Jessica knew he could talk to me about anything. Anything at all. We talked about everything; sports, school, jobs, the economy. Every—"

"Objection".

"If something or someone was bothering me she would've told —"

"Objection!" I yelled, jumping to my feet. My heart was pounding. "My client is not a mind reader!"

"Sustained," Judge Miller said dryly. "Please, rephrase that question".

"Took you long enough," I muttered below my breath, taking my seat again.

"I'll move on," Melanie said in a sweet voice. "Mrs. Hawkins—"

Melanie was interrupted, but this time, it was not because of my objections. It was because of Mrs. Hawkins.

"You hurt my baby," She growled, staring at the defendant. "You hurt my baby". Brian blanched but said nothing, slumping even further into his chair.

"You did it on purpose. You asked her out on a date and she turned you down," She said. "So, because you couldn't bear this to ruin your little reputation you punched my baby in the face and took her down!" Diane pinned Brian with her gaze, her words seeming to cut him to the quick.

"Objection!" I leaped to my feet.

"You couldn't keep her from telling!" Diane screamed, clutching the edge of the table before her, thank God there was something between her and the defendant, her knuckles white. "I swear, you son of a bitch, I—"

"Objection, Your honor! This is inappropriate!"

Diane did not stop. "You'll pay, you hear me? You'll fucking—"

"Mrs. Hawkins," Mr. Miller interrupted.

"You hurt my baby," Diane sobbed, making a grab for Brian's shirt. Brian did not move back, his face crumpling by degrees, bowed his head; as a defendant he was told not to speak in the courtroom no matter what happened. "You hurt my Jessica".

"Mrs. Hawkins, you will stop immediately!" Miller yelled, banging his gavel. "Ms. Harper, control your client!"

"Your witness," Melanie grinned at the jury, pointing a finger at the sobbing woman.

"Your honor," I said tightly. "Perhaps we should take a short recess".

Miller glared at the defense attorney. "Yes. Perhaps we should".