Hey, all. I'm actually updating with a new story! This is a bit different style, I think, from my other stuff, and I hope you enjoy! :)

"All rise for the honorable Judge Ellison." The courtroom stood, a wave of frowns and crisp suits. The judge took his seat, his fat body spilling over the edges of the chair. He looked over the courtroom at the many frowning faces, and his smile slid off his face into its ever-present frown.

"Be seated," He barked out, and the courtroom did as ordered. He shuffled through the papers, and with a cough he pulled out a sheet. "Enurgh," -cough- "We're here to review Turner vs. The State of Illinois. The defendant is Mr. Jesse Turner, who has been accused of brutally murdering his wife."

The judge prattled on, but the real commotion was going on in the head of Lucy Turner, age seven, and very fidgety at the moment. She knew something big was happening. And she knew that it had to be very important, because her grandmother had put her into her Sunday dress, and its white collar scratched her chin uncomfortably.

She twisted the collar away from her neck with her grubby fingers. Lucy looked around at all the adults around her. No one was little for her to play with. She didn't know where her mother was, and she hadn't seen her father for a few days either. And she didn't like her grandmother. She smelled old and like yucky perfume. And she never played with her either. All she did was sit and knit, and listen to the radio. She didn't play with worms or watch TV like Lucy wanted to.

Lucy fidgeted in her seat, fingering the hem of her dress and admiring the pretty blue butterfly pattern. She liked butterflies. She once caught one with her mother. It was orange and black and her mother told her to be very careful. She had accidentally pulled at its wing a little when she let it go. She remembered its lopsided flight as it went to a flower bush.

"How long did you know Ella Turner?" Lucy's head snapped up. That was her mothers name. She remembered that.

"I was married to her for six years. But I knew her for seven." Her father answered. He pushed his hair back from his eyes with his left hand, devoid of its wedding ring. Lucy noticed immediately. She always liked his ring, in its solid silver-ness, and she had often worn it herself, waiting for the day that she could have one of her own, just like it.

"When was the last time you saw her?" her father looked down, and clenched his hands together in a fist.

Taking a shaky breath, he answered, "I haven't seen her since the day she died. I went out to get Lucy, my daughter, and when I came back, there was Ella, lying on the floor in a pool of blood." His hands shook, and he wiped his eye with the back of his sleeve. "I miss her," he muttered.

Lucy smiled happily. She had had ice cream that day. It was strawberry, her favorite.

"Describe what you saw when you came home."

"I walked in the door. I was holding Lucy's hand, and she was holding an ice cream cone. Right Lucy?" Lucy, in the audience, nodded. She liked strawberries. "And when I came in, I told her to go to the bathroom to wash off. She walked off, and I went into the living room and saw Elle, lying on the floor in a pool of blood. I screamed and went forward to her. She looked like she normally did, except her white shirt was stained with blood." Someone took a note. He looked at the audience nervously, wringing his hands.

"I loved Elle. I really did. I miss her like crazy." Lucy sat on the bench, and played with the cushion. It was red, and fraying where she was picking at it. Her grandmother noticed, and batted away Lucy's hand.

Lucy crossed her arms and kicked her feet. It wasn't fair. She was bored. She saw her father sit down, and a fat old man that looked like a frog stand up. He said something, but it had too many fancy words for her to understand. Her grandmother grabbed Lucy's hand, and they walked out of the stuffy room and into the lobby. Lucy liked how the floor sparkled.

They walked outside, and her grandmother took her to lunch. She didn't know the name of the restaurant, but her grandmother let her have French fries and chicken dinosaurs. She made the T-rexes eat the stegosauruses, before she gleefully devoured them all. Lucy's grandmother told her something about talking to everybody in the big room with all the grown-ups. Lucy didn't like the room. She didn't want to.

Her grandmother grabbed Lucy's hand, sticky with catsup and crumbs, and they walked back towards the courthouse. Lucy saw a doggie, and when she went to pet it, was sharply pulled back. She didn't like her grandmother, even though she gave her chicken dinosaurs. And she liked chicken dinosaurs.

They got back to the courtroom, and they sat down on the bench, but in a different place. This cushion had a part where it was lighter in a splotch. It didn't have any threads for Lucy to play with. She didn't like that.

She had barely fallen asleep from the drone of the proceedings when her grandmother shook her, and took her up to the front of the room. A man with a book told her to put her hand on it. She did. It felt funny and greasy. She didn't like it at all.

They sat her on a stool, and told her to talk into the funny tube thing. It felt funny at the top when she touched it. The man with the book told her to stop and listen to the questions.

"What's your name?" a funny man in a suit asked her.

"Lucy Ann Turner. But people call me Lucy!" her little girl voice echoed across the courtroom. Commonly, people would have smiled at her lisp and how young she was, but this was not a time for laughter. This was a time for finding out the truth.

"Lucy, how old are you?"

"Seven and fwee months," she told the courtroom, swinging her legs off the length of the chair.

"Lucy, can you tell me what happened? What happened the last time you saw your mother?" the man asked her. He looked too serious. And he smelled bad. She didn't like him at all.

"Umm, I was at Gwandmas. I wead the newspaper, and she knitted. Den Daddy picked me up. We got ice cweam. I had stwaberry," she bit her lip and tilted her head to the side.

"Can you describe what you saw when you came home?"

"I got inside and went to the bawthroom. Then I came out and saw Mommy. She was wearing a bwu shirt. I tink." She looked at her father. He shook his head "no" and she quickly amended herself. "No, it was white."

The man in the suit scowled and thought. "Lucy, are you sure? When we saw your mother, she was wearing a blue shirt." Lucy's father stiffened, and Lucy looked confused.

"Dat's wight. Daddy told me to say that it was a white shirt," she played with the tips of her hair. "Daddy told me to say a wot of things."

The pacing man looked at Lucy's father. He sat, expressionless, staring at his daughter. "Lucy…what did your daddy tell you to say?"

"Well, he told me that we went out to get ice cweam. He said that if we pretended that, we'd pway a game together later. I like games," she beamed at the courtroom. "I was at home that day. Me and Mommy were pwaying a game. I like games."

The courtroom was filled with tension. "Den Daddy came home. He was angwy. He yelled at Mommy and told me to go to the bawthroom. But I didn't, no sir-ee!" Lucy looked especially happy. "I went un'ner the dining woom table. I heard a weeeeaaalllly loud noise and Mommy fell down."

Her father looked nervous, and squinted his eyes at his daughter. "Den Daddy saw me. He said that he and Mommy were pwaying a game. Den he told me what I was supposed to say when I was supposed to talk to de people."

She beamed, not knowing what she had just said. Her father leapt up, pushing over the table. He lunged toward his daughter, and she cringed back. She didn't like how red his face was, or how he was shouting.

"The little fucker! I'll kill you! She's a fucking retard! A retard, I tell you! She don't know what she's saying." He screamed and grabbed her by the shoulders. Shaking her body, he kept yelling the words at her. Lucy started crying, wailing at her father.

It took three policemen to get him off and pin him to the floor. "Alright! I did it. I killed my wife. The bitch deserved it."

The courtroom was awash with yelling, screaming, and flash photography.

It wasn't until much later, when everyone had left, that Lucy realized she had turned in her only father.

She broke out crying in the back seat of her grandmother's car.

:* Please review, or crit, or something.

-Siena