After I had calmed down a bit, I was booked and thrown in a cell to await my trial the next morning.
Throughout the night I varied between personalities. At times, there was the confused and apologetic Angela, but then she would hide within herself and then the stern and angry Drake would surface.
Justin and Little Kim rarely ever come out in a situation such as this, but every once in awhile that night, the guards could here a small voice calling out, "Let me in."
The next morning, I woke as Angela. Although I had no audience, I still stumbled around my cell, almost in tears.
I was shaking and appeared nervous. I paced my cell and rubbed my hands together, sometimes running them through my hair like I was about to pull it out. My breathing was harsh, but semi-controlled.
I was deciding whether or not to start mumbling to myself when I hear a guard's footsteps.
I stopped and rushed to the cell door. I looked down the hall to see a young-ish looking man walking towards my cell. I recognized him as being on the day shift. But what was his name? Officer Lloyd? Leroy? Or was it like Jackson? Clarkson…
"Miss Dwight? Your trial is about to start." He said politely. I took that moment to look at his nametag. Larson! So fucking close.
"Alright," I said worryingly, "But could you tell me what I did? I mean, I didn't hurt anyone, right?" Angela held her breath in wait of the man's reply.
"I don't think so. Then again, I barely know anything about your case." I released my held breath in disappointment.
"Step away from the door and turn around." I did as he asked without hesitation. Angela was conditioned to do whatever someone told her to and do it perfectly.
This is why Angela gets a job quickly. At work early and leaves for home late. Every request by the boss finished or she doesn't leave. That is, unless Kim gets pissed off or Justin gets bored. Then things get broken or tasks are left undone. This is how Angela loses her job just as quickly.
I'm cuffed and walked to the courtroom. It's small, but does the trick. There's a few people sitting, ready to watch the judge at work. Most are young, law students most likely.
Students. I was one. I recall the sitting and watching part of the whole experience. How he would just lecture until the clock ran out.
I remember how captured I was. How attentive I was to his every word. I didn't need to scribble down notes, I could remember it all. Even if I couldn't, I still wouldn't dare write a word as he spoke. I wouldn't dare miss anything he had to say.
I can smell the ink in the air. The pens my classmates would use. I can smell the chalk and the faint decay of old books and the girls' perfumes and the pollen that blew through the open…
"Please stand, Judge Connor residing."
Reality. Hello, buddy. I almost lost you there. While lost in my memory, I had walked myself to the defendant's desk. A worn, but sturdy desk.
The trial was underway. As soon as the judge stopped talking, I'll confess my guilt. Then I'll have to pay for the window. I might have to, once again, serve some jail time, but, at this moment in time, I didn't care.
"Angela Dwight, how do you plead?" I looked up with tear stained eyes.
Looking at the judge, pathetically, I took a shaky breath and replied, "Guilty." This time Angela couldn't deny it. She never could. The evidence was always overwhelming. What with the policemen testifying against her and, once, hidden camera that clearly showed her at the crime scene.
The judge was talking again. Most likely giving me a sentence. How long this time? A week, a few months? I'll have to ask my landlord to take care of the new black lab puppy Justin bought Little Kim for her birthday yesterday. It probably already made a mess.
Little Kim has always wanted a dog. It'll be nice to have someone, other than Justin, to play with at the park. Although she loves the puppy, Little Kim refuses to name it.
Angela has no idea that the puppy even exists, so it's not important now. It will be later, when Drake takes over and realizes what Justin did. No matter how hard Justin tries to hide things from him, Drake always finds out. Then he screams at Justin for it later.
"Miss. Dwight, the courts are aware that this isn't your first conviction…"
My eyes are unfocused, but my mind is a razor blade. Slicing at the layers of thought, trying to find some kind of order.
"…as a last chance we are willing to wave any jail time…"
Maybe I'm cutting too deep…
"All you have to do is agree…."
Thoughts spill out of sliced thoughts.
"…to seek psychiatric help…"
Or are there memories inside thoughts?
"Miss Dwight, do you agree to the court's terms?" He sat, waiting patiently for an answer.
Angela, thinking of the missing time, the strange objects she finds hidden in her apartment, and of the things she doesn't remember doing, said, "I agree."
Angela thought, 'What have I done? I don't need this.'
But I thought, 'It's about fucking time.'