“Not guilty.”
The words announced by the judge rang in the ears of the emotionless, wide-eyed boy spotlighted in the middle of the suffocating courtroom.
Not.. guilty?
The boy’s constricted sharp, teal eyes switch between the shocked prosecution attorney next to him, to the man now celebrating on the other side of the silent courtroom. The man cheered quietly, his dark emerald eyes pridefully looking over his legal team, clearly satisfied with the deliberation from the jury.
Not.. fucking.. guilty?
His father. His father was found not guilty?
The same man that smokes packages of cigarettes to fill the house with disgusting, poisonous smoke to suffocate his children’s lungs. The same man that would drink gallons of whiskey and bash the empty glass bottles against the already dented walls. The same man that would throw and lock him into his tiny, claustrophobic closet for hours on end, isolating him from the outside world just for the hell of it. The same man that forced his mouth shut for years to not rat out what a sad excuse of a father he was. The same fucking man that would bash his little sister’s head into a wall without hesitation is found to be fucking innocent—?
Angelina.
Jackson’s eyes tear away from his giddy father to the petite young girl beside him. Angelina, his little sister. His poor, darling little sister. Her dull teal eyes were constricted with an unconsumed terror, sparkling tears ready to flood out.
His father won. Travis won.
When Jackson had barely managed to get emancipated nearly a year ago, finally being able to get away from the man, he had assumed he could easily gain Angelina under his care as well. Then the court system decided it would be better to spit in his face and deem such a request unfit. The verdict had infuriated the previous fifteen year old.
But.. then he realized that it was okay.
Because he just needed to try again, but in a different way. What better way than to expose Travis for the disgusting man he truly is?
Jackson discarded the lost custody case on his behalf, in favor of a new trial. The impulsive teenager pressed and branded a filed criminal law case into his father’s forehead filled with charges of child abuse and neglect.
He wanted to bring him to court for all curious eyes to see and scorn at. To be mocked and judged by the critical eyes of society and tortured for his crimes.
He wanted his truth to finally be heard after being forced to keep it shut in for so long.
But despite the charges he branded into that man, despite the testimonies, the overwhelming evidence — photographs, videos, messages — all pointing to that bitch being an abuser, displayed for every single person in that godforsaken courtroom to see and shun at, that snake still managed to slither his way into innocence.
Angelina lets out a blood curdling scream.
She bolts away from Travis’s side, her brown boots clanging against the courtroom’s marbled floors as she crashes herself into her older brother. Her nails dig into his collared white button-up shirt, clinging on desperately, her life depending on not letting go. The older welcomes the younger instinctively, wrapping his arms around her and keeping her secure in his arms.
“No, no, NO! Don’t leave me! Please, please, bubba! Please, take me with you, I’ll be good, I swear, just please don’t leave—!”
“Mr. Jackson Valkyrie?” The judge spoke, deciding to ignore Angelina’s outburst. His infuriating monotone voice echoed throughout the room, trying to assert its authority.
Jackson’s trembling eyes meet with the judge’s.
“This respectable jury has found Mr. Travis Valkyrie innocent upon your charges of child abuse and neglect. Ms. Angelina Valkyrie will continue to reside and be under his care. Please, have her returned to Mr. Valkyrie’s arms.”
Angelina only sobs harder at the emotionless words of the judge, latching on tighter to her brother. Jackson only flares his eyes, turning from the judge to the jury.
Respectable?
How dare they cruelly sentence him and his sister into this position? How is this not enough? Enough for them to change their minds, to regret their decision?
Jackson looks at his sister’s small, trembling frame. She was so small— far too small for a twelve-year-old girl. She already had distinct eye bags underneath her red, puffy eyes. Dozens of rolls of bandages looped themselves tightly around her wrists. Jackson feels even more wrapped all around her body underneath her over-sized clothing— clothing he knows fit her just fine months ago. Her usual rosy red cheeks have disappeared, now flushed from color and looking sickly pale. Even to the most unconcerned eyes, Angelina hardly looked healthy.
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What if she’s dead before he gets custody of her?
“Jackson!” The shocked prosecution attorney next to him, Mr. Northbridge, seems to finally find his voice, and hisses towards the teenager. “Listen to the judge! You can’t disrespect the court, you’ll land yourself into greater trouble!”
Jackson can’t hear Northbridge.
He can only register the girl in front of him, sobbing and begging incoherently for him not to abandon her. To not leave her with that man. Her promising that she’ll be good, that she’ll do anything, just don’t fucking leave her with him—
“Ahem.”
Jackson is snapped out of his thoughts as his eyes widen slightly, whipping towards his left. Travis stands on his side of the courtroom, looking straight at the teenager with the smuggest shit eating grin he’s ever seen.
“I’m sure you heard what the honorable judge said, right, Jackson?” He wanted that bastard’s head on a stake, wanted to see his smug face stomped out and splattered across his shoe. But, the last thing Jackson was going to do was satisfy that man with a reaction.
The sixteen year old watches as his father’s eyes darken, yet still maintaining his signature plain smile. “Please, hand my daughter to me and we’ll be off.” A warning was laced into the statement.
“Jackson! Jack, please!” Angelina continues to scream from below, her eyes having an almost crazed look in them. “Please, take me with you! Please, please—”
Every single noise around him slowly drowns away.
His little sister..
Jackson’s eyes blur in and out as he lowers them towards the ground, continuing to keep Angelina in his arms despite knowing that Travis was moving towards them.
His little sister is in pain.
“Jackson.” Northbridge continues to hiss in his ear. “We’ve lost! Give her to him now—”
“Mr. Northbridge?” Jackson says his name with as much venom as he can spit. “Kindly, shut the fuck up.” The attorney’s eyes widened.
Northbridge failed him.
Travis gets closer.
His little sister is in pain because Jackson has failed her. He failed to protect her.
Fuck the court.
He watches emotionlessly as his father’s black polished dress shoes come into view at the floor, his intoxicating cologne making him dizzy. Angelina’s cries only worsened knowing that he was right behind her.
Fuck Northbridge.
“Jackson.” The brunette stretched out a hand towards him, sunlight leaking out from the tall windows of the courtroom, reflecting off his black glasses. “Hand over my daughter.”
But, most importantly, fuck Travis.
“Helloo, Jack? Are you not hearing very well— HEY?! Where are you going—?!”
Travis’s obnoxious voice shakes the walls as Jackson bolts out through the courtroom doors, managing to maneuver around innocent bystanders present in the gallery. He drags Angelina alongside him, tightly gripping onto the girl’s thin, bony wrist.
“GET BACK HERE! Hello? Someone get him! He’s taking my daughter—!”
The enraged brunette’s voice is drowned out the farther Jackson runs away. His little sister’s struggling breathing makes its way to his ears, the girl barely able to keep up with him.
“Angelina!” He exclaims, running down the long hallways of the courtroom building that he has had the privilege of getting familiar with for the past few months. He barely managed to dodge a group of court officials, all shocked by the teenager’s frantic appearance. “When we get to my motorcycle, we’re going to my apartment, grabbing a bunch of shit, and never coming to this city again!”
Jackson only hears a shocked noise erupt from the girl, but no objections to the idea.
The pair make a sharp turn around a rounded corner of the hall, Jackson’s combat boots making a loud screech against the clean floorboards and his disheveled raven locks covering his eyes.
He sees the exit, just a few yards away, the tall, heavy brown doors greeting him excitedly. Jackson can’t contain the small smile finally stretching across his face as a wave of relief hits him. All he needs to do is ditch this useless town, and he’ll figure out everything else later, all with his sister by his side—
Thwack.
The ravenette plummets and crashes into the wooden floorboards underneath him with a loud thud. He groans, his vision blurring in and out, before slowly darkening as the world around him tilts side to side. He feels something stuck into his neck. Jackson sees Angelina’s terrified, tearfilled face fill his obstructed vision, her soft features having been tainted with exhaustion and pain. He could see her mouth moving, she’s yelling something at him, but for the love of god he can’t hear her over the ringing in his ears.
Then he sees the hands. Shadowy hands grab behind Angelina, wrapping and twisting around the small, frail girl and dragging her farther and farther away. She thrashes violently against them, scratching at them wildly, her screams and cries all falling on deaf ears.
“A-angel..” Jackson groans, forcing a shaky hand to stretch and reach towards his sister. The limb only plops back down against the ground. Everything is too heavy. Everything is too blurry. Everything is too dark.
As Jackson begins to fall unconscious, he feels something faintly push up against the back of his head, pressing him further into the cold, hard floor underneath him.
It was almost as if it were there to mock him. It was almost as if it were the heel of a polished, black dress shoe crushing the back of his head.
“I bet you wish you never left in the first place.”
Travis’s giddy voice rings in his head.