A/N: This is a first for me. I have never really written a story that is fiction, like this. I really don't know where it is going, but for now, it is pretty suspenseful. I would love any opinions on it, so please read and review. I really am proud of myself for what I have so far written. And I hope it is a good story, for you who have chosen to stop by, to read. Loves and hugs.

Summary: A young girl, Elizabeth, get caught in a world she could never have imagined. Right from the start her life is changed. As her dreams begin to taunt her with the torment she has suffered. But will she find out what happened, or will she just await the long over due Verdict.

Rating: R (Adult Content, Adult Language, Gore)

Genre: Drama/Suspense

Title: The Verdict

Chapter One: It Begins

Breathing into the moist morning air, I took my first step into the breaking waves of the high seas. The waters icy way, crashing slowly up against my toes. I began to wiggle them as they separated. Feeling nothing but the emptiness around me, I collided with the water. Embracing the liquid as it covered my body. As I reached the surface, I could feel a difference in my body, the feeling of death crept over me.

A sharp pain gripped me on the inside. I could hardly move. Now further out into the great abyss I had no control over what was to happen. I let out a shriek as I drifted under the shell. I could see the sun glistening onto the roof of the sea as if it were a mirror, glimmering against the minerals. I took in a harsh breath, and blood came flushing out of my mouth. I could feel my ribs cracking inside my feeble chest.

I shot up quickly from the bed gripping my chest tightly in pain. My eyes opened to a diminutive room, lit by only candlelight. I shakily stirred as I wiped the salty sweat from my forehead. I pushed the linen covers from my body and slowly slid away from the bed. My feet touched the cold solid ground. I let out a yawn before walking towards a hard oak door, leading to the hallway.

I quickly turned the metal knob as the door cracked open. I brought my ear close to the cracked door and waited. I heard nothing. I walked out of the solitary room into the hall. All was quiet. I took in a deep breath waiting for any sound. But no sound was made. All I could hear was the sound of a fan clicking as it flew round and round on the ceiling above me. I stared at it as it moved, as worry rushed over me.

"Hello?" I questioned.

Nothing. Not a whisper, not a voice, nothing. I began to search for anyone. At first, I thought, everyone must have been sleeping, although no snoring was coming from either ends of the hall. I knocked, first, on my sister's door. But nothing came from the other side. I quickly opened the door agitatedly, but she was not there.

And then, my brothers room, without knocking I let myself into the room, but he was also missing. My body began to tremble. I ran to my parent's door. I knew they never locked their door at night. But the door was already ajar. I gently pushed it open.

My eyes burned. My body was lit on fire. I rushed over to where my mother was lying. Her body so fragile and petite. But then I noticed. Blood drenched along the sheets. My eyes lowered towards her neck. The gaping wound stared at me as if it were mocking me. And my stepfather. He to had the same wound. I turned from the horrible sight clenching my arms tightly in fright. Tears ringed from my eyes as I looked down upon the floor to see another sight of destruction.

My brother and sister were sprawled out on the ground heads against a small dresser, blood leaking out from the necks. I fell in despair. A scream so vile left my lips; I could no longer take it. It was as if I turned lifeless and cold breaking into thousands of pieces. I felt my body freeze, and I could no longer move. I gripped the floor trying to sense something, anything, but no emotion was in me.

I could no longer feel myself, as if I were almost unreal, as if I were dead like the ones lying in their own pools of blood. Letting the blood release from the gaping wound upon my neck. But I never died.

I didn't realize how long I had been lying there, until I could hear sounds, faint and mumbled voices. Something moved into my eyes view I only stared as they moved around me.

I fixed my eyes on the quiet room. A few murmurs of voices could be heard from the back behind the lawyers. The room was dull but lit with bright bulbs along the ceiling. Every sound seemed to barely reach my ears. As if they were whispers of secrets that I could not hear. I raised my head and opened my eyes covered in salty water. I peered above me to a man dressed in black, speaking to another.

"The court has no record of this minor, she has never committed any crimes." A man spoke. "We don't see how this young woman could have had the power in her to commit these horrendous acts of violence."

"Yes, but we can see just by looking at the way she is, her personal belongings say it all," another one began. "Her poems, her journals, even in her actions towards this case!"

"Sit DOWN Mr. Weston!" the judge shouted.

He seemed almost frustrated with the attorney as his face filled with a pinkish tint. I turned my gaze back forward as a man dressed as if he were going to a wedding approached me, holding something in his hands.

"Ma'am, please, we have only a short time to figure this all out." The judge started to speak. "You are under oath, and every question these men ask you, you have to be truthful. Now Mr. Weston, if you would be so kind as to do the questioning benevolently."

"Miss Shay, please tell us, what does this mean?" The lawyer said as he placed a paper in front of me.

I looked up. Suddenly realizing the room was foggy and blurred. I looked up at the man who was angrily pushing a piece of paper under my nose. I glared at him, and grabbed the piece of paper. My eyes burned and brain boiling from the visions that had just past through my mind. I quickly read through the paper. One of my poems I had written. I said to myself. What does this have to do with anything? I placed it down and looked back up.

"It's about death, but it's not the bad sense," I choked out my words. "It's more like, embracing the fact that we all die, but there is something better in death."

"So it isn't about killing anyone, or any act of violence towards another person?" he questioned.

I stared into his blank face, still questioning that this was all actually happening, I replied quickly.

"No."

"But, in some of your journal writings, you have sometimes said that you wished, some people would die?" he added as he paced back and forth near the witness stand.

"So, who doesn't do that!" I angrily spat. "I know lots of people that want people dead, but they're only kidding!"

"But you are on trial for murder, not them Miss Shay." He angrily retorted.

His words etched inside of me like an inferno. On trial for murder. Someone like myself, seemingly innocent and on trial for the brutal murder of my own family. It seemed too movie of the week.

"I didn't kill anyone!" I shouted.

"Your Honor, I want that stricken from the record, that's content which could sway the jury!" Mr. Weston Shouted.

His eyes were like volcanos about to erupt with irritation. Sweat nearly leaking out from his forehead as he wiped it away before it grew to be noticeable. He stance changed and then he stared back at me when he heard my rebuttal.

"Why?" I spoke with frustration. "Are you afraid, you could be wrong, that I didn't kill my family?!"

"No, because I want a fair jury, and by your actions of anger, they can already see what I know." He commenced, "That you are a violent girl and when you unleash yourself, you are capable of these sort of crimes!"

I felt fury burning inside of me. My jaw was wide open, but I quickly shut it. I knew if I said anymore it would be pushed against me. I brought my eyes back up to the lawyer.

His cheap way with words working against me made me have a discerning hate for him, and I had just met him.

"They can see I am irritated, and I am for a good reason." I said quickly.

I could see in his eyes that he knew what I was thinking. He knew that I wasn't going to sit there and take everything he threw and me, and be expected to just sit like a queen in her place and say nothing. I raised my eyes to see the Judge become more flustered than he had been previously.

"This is not the fourth grade, we are respectable people, and I want this zoo of a court room to cease, Mr. Weston, please continue, and do not start any more rambunctious arguments." He stated with a stern tone.

"All right sir." He answered and walked slowly towards me again. "Miss Shay, State your whereabouts, again, the night of October fifth, two-thousand four."

"I was out, with my friends. We went to go see a movie, and then we just went home." I stated.

"Did you notice anything strange about that night, at your house." He asked me sternly.

I thought quickly. Maybe there was something, a sound. Someone breaking in? Something different about my parents that I didn't notice. Maybe they were hiding something? I could have missed it all, If only I stayed up that night to stop what had happened.

"No, there wasn't. My parents were in the garage, everyone else was out for the evening, and I said a few words to my parents, and headed upstairs to bed." I said as tears began forming across my bottom eyelids.

"So, you didn't notice anything?"

"I told you, I didn't." I replied.

Why don't you step off ass! I imagined saying to him. This guy pretends that I didn't lose a family; I only gained a death toll. I should just stand right up and slap him for being such a damned idiot. But then I grasped the fact that, well being aggressive would definitely make me look guilty. So I calmed myself and only watched him with fierce eyes.

"And the next morning, you testimonial says, you woke up, and found your family all inside your parents room."

I began to see flashes of the room. First slow, I couldn't stop them. Every bat of my eyes would show me something of that day. The blood covering the bed and drenching the white carpet. The corpses coming closer into view, as if reaching out at me, striking fear into my already lament mind. The red filled my eyes as I closed them more tightly. My stomach curdled at the thought of that day.

I was about to answer as he said my name again. His voice raw and harsh made it hard to block out the in visions of the lifeless corpses that were once, a happy loving family.

"Miss Shay?" A voice whispered near me.

His voice broke through my ears. I felt my body spinning out of control. I could feel bile flowing up my chest and around my throat. I quickly stood and open my eyes. I looked out past the lawyers, to the courtroom, at the family members there that were supporting me. Everything blurred as I felt sickness rise over me more, controlling me. I had to get out of there as fast as possible. I stood up swiftly.

"I think-I have to…" I said but then I could no longer contain it.

The nausea got the best of me. As my insides burst out onto the courtroom floor, I ran out of the room in embarrassment. I rested my head against a large wall as the bailiff came rushing towards me along with my lawyer. I slid to the ground and began to cry. I could see feet approach me as they stopped and as a knee came into view resting itself against the tile.

"Elizabeth? Are you all right?" he quickly questioned.

I knew I had to answer him, but my throat ached and made it rough to speak. I turned to him and let out one last puff of cries. As a tear dropped from my already drenched eyelashes.

"I couldn't take it, it's to much Bob. Please, don't make me go back there, not today." I shakily said. "He, he wouldn't stop badgering me!"

"I know, the Judge should have said something, I know the judge was close to throwing him out of the court room." He added with a girlish giggle.

I opened my eyes and I stared at him in shock. He shouldn't be this friendly to me; I'm just his client. I thought as I began to speak.

"So," I let out a soft cough, "Not today?"

"Well, they are going to have to clean the mess up anyway." He giggled.

The news of not having to be back in, made me overly content, but still all my emotion was bottling up with in me, the sadness rained over it. My muscles tensed and wouldn't relax. I tried to calm my self by breathing deeply, but nothing worked. I closed my eyes once again when I felt someone's hand on my shoulder. I tilted my head still with eyes closed.

"Elizabeth, you're going to have to go back into custody now. So I will start talking with the judge, and we will set up another trial date." He kindly said.

"Thank you." I whispered to him.

I took in a breath and stood from the cold tile ground. I could see my lawyer wave slowly back towards me. I smirked sorrowfully at my lawyer as the bailiff carried me away from the hall, far away from the courtroom. I only stared down at me feet as I walked in front of the officer that took me back to my cell. The solitary confinement I was stuck in.

Was it as if I were Ted Bundy, J.W. Gacy, or even Jeffery Dahmer, the most hideous creations of men to ever walk the earth? They ripped apart men as well as women, and I was locked away in a cell just as they had been. Charged with four murders, how could that be? I thought. I could only let the flames of fury damage my heart and soul. The idea of death was so surreal, and yet breaking into the reality that was now my life.

I could be locked away forever, or die in the electric chair. The ideas seemed so simple, die or barely exist, forever living in solitary imprisonment. That was the last thing I wanted. I reached the cell I was held in and quickly walked in. The cuffs were released from my wrists and the door shut rapidly.

Orange. I thought. The color a murderer wears, but why not red, the color of blood. My near sadistic thoughts got me thinking. I haven't written a poem, I need to get these feelings out of me.

I went over to the small shelf of a bed and grabbed a notebook sitting under it. I hastily jotted down my feelings, but only to release them into the poem I was writing. I stopped and read over it.

Why is this so sad and twisted? Why is it always about pain and suffering? I couldn't think anymore. I shoved the notebook under the bed and sat on top of it. I realized again, as I stared at the ceiling, this could be my life. As I slowly drifted off to sleep trying to block out every bit of memory I had about the murders.