Chapter One

Chapter 1

Michael stood there at the bottom of the staircase looking up at the courthouse. His hands begin to sweat as the rain drops fall over his face.  All he can think about is how this is going to be the biggest challenge he has ever faced.  As he brings himself onto the first step he feels his chest begin to tighten.  Step after step his chest tightens more and more as he wipes his clammy hands on the pants of his pressed suit.  Every step feels like eternity, as he wonders if he will ever reach the top of the stair case.  He finally makes it to the door of the court house after what felt like a lifetime.  He raises his head to look at the abnormally huge 2 wooden doors, and his body begins to shake as he reads the words 'Criminal Court' written on the flawless glass of one of the doors.  As he raises his hand to grab the door handle he starts to hear the beat of his heart throbbing in his ears.  As he opens the door he is blinded by the flashes of cameras and deafened by the voices of reporters.  The reporters are yelling over each other trying to ask him questions, but the noise all blends in together as his hear beat is getting louder by the second.

He then slowly walks over to the metal detector and begins to untie his black leather dress shoes trying to ignore the fact that the media was still harassing him and watching his every move.  He puts his shoes on the conveyor belt as the guard reminds him to remove his belt and any metal he may have in his pockets.  He then takes off his belt trying to control his shaking hands.  He notices himself moving faster trying to get through security and to the courtroom because he knows reporters can't harass him in there.  He throws his cell phone and keys into the container with his belt as the guard waves him through.  He walks through the metal detector and rushes to his shoes trying to put them on this fast as possible.  He then grabs his belt, cell phone and keys and doesn't worry about putting it away.  He rushes to the elevator as seven video cameras and around 10 reporters follow him.  All of them shouting but none of the words are clear.  He focuses on holding back his tears and not letting the cameras see any emotion in his face.

As he makes it to the elevator a man was holding it open for him.  The man lets him in and blocks any reporters from getting in while violently clicking the closes door button.  The door finally closes and as he begins to put his belt on he looks at the man.  A quick 'Thank you' is all he could force out of his mouth as his voice trembles.  Michael knows if he tried to force any more words out he would lose focus on holding his tears back and that would lead to breaking down.  The man noticing his voice and face just nods in approval as if he knew that conversation wasn't necessary.  His belt is finally on, cell phone and keys put in his pocket as the bell dings letting him know he has made it to his floor.  He steps out of the elevator and quickly notices the complete silence.  As he steps into the empty and silent hallway he notices himself beginning to miss the voices of the reporters.  He makes his way to the court room, and before opening the door he tries to gather himself.  'Suck it up' he thinks to himself. 'One day and then it's over for you, you can do this!'

He opens the door and leaves the deadly silent hallway.  As he enters the court room the anxiety kicks in and he begins trembling enough where people were noticing.  The sound of whispers and coughs echoed off the walls.  He looks around noticing that the room was packed with reporters, friends, family and many other unknown faces.  He takes a slow look around trying to see who was sitting where and her eyes caught his.  As their eyes connected the breath seemed to just leave his body, feeling as if she was staring a hole right through his soul.  The woman who made the anxiety worsen throughout his body was no stranger, it was the woman who gave birth to him.  It was also the woman that put him into this situation.  After seeing the look in her eyes his mind begins to travel back in time as memories begin to flood his brain.  His mind struggles to find a good memory and fails at it as it begins to fill with all the memories he's tried to forget over the years.

The first place his mind takes him is the motel room.  He remembers being about six or seven years old.  The smell of sewer and mangy dog fills his nose.  Grunts of a man and moans of a woman fill his ears.  It's as if he is looking down on himself.  The child lays there in the dark pretending to be asleep as his mom brings back another strange man.  The room is dark but there's enough light to see tear after tear fall down the little boys cheek as he cries silently.  His older brother Daniel cuddled up with him cupping the little boys’ ears trying to help drown out the sounds.  His baby sister who is 3 years younger is asleep on the couch.  All the little boy wants is for the noise to stop.  He remembers this being a regular thing that happened about 3 times a week, with a different man each time.  Michael remembers as a child he would just wait for the man to stop grunting and that meant that he was leaving.  This was the age he learned that crying could only happen in the arms of his brother in the dark.  Any time his mother saw a tear leave his eye she would tell him “Man up, boys don't cry!”  Hate begins to take over his body, as he begins to wish that memory wasn't so clear to him.

His mind focused on anger then jumps to Bill, his first stepdad.  Every time he thinks back to Bill, the first image that seems to be burned into his mind is a metal belt buckle shaped in the form of a bald eagle.  This buckle was the size of both his hands put together as a child.  Bill hated the kids and felt as though physical punishment was the only way to get out his frustration.  He never touched their little sister; he would only beat the two boys.  He remembers the fear that would take over his body every time his mother left the house.  They would always know ahead of time when she was going to leave and would find a place to hide outside as far away from the house as possible.  After the first few months of the beatings, the feeling of fear had left his body.  Daniel came up to him after these few months of hiding and pulled him outside.  This conversation was as clear as if it had happened just yesterday in his mind.  His brother tells him “No more hiding, we can’t do this forever” as he pulls him in for a hug. “Just don’t show tears or any sign of pain.” Daniel says quietly.  “He gets bored when you don’t cry and they seem to not last as long.”  They had to learn this because they had tried for months to tell their mother about what he did to them when she would leave, but she would just stand there in disbelief.  They would offer to pull their pants down and show her the bruises, but she would never look.  Michael feels his skin heating up as he thinks to himself.  “What kind of mom stands back and just lets that happen to her kids?”  Anger is now his focus, all the anxiety and fear has left his body.  He quickly remembers why Bill isn’t around anymore.

The landlord always came over with flowers when Bill wasn’t home.  By this age Michael had become accustomed to strange men sleeping with his mother, as if it was a normal part of life.  Every day that Michael watched the landlord go into his mothers’ room with the flowers he considered telling Bill about him.  He remembers thinking if Bill found out maybe she would find out what it was like to be beat like they were on a daily basis.  He could never bring himself to do it though, she was a horrible mom but he never wanted her to get hurt.  He knew Bill would eventually find out on his own anyways, which meant the situation would end up fixing itself.  The day Bill left was the only good memory his mind could seem to find from his childhood.

Remembering the pain of the belt buckle then brought his memory to the age of seventeen.  He was getting ready to throw a house party that his mom had given him permission to throw.  The fridge filled with four cases of the cheapest beer, and his mothers’ current boyfriend yet another bad memory filling his mind.  The new boyfriend was George, a rich man who loved to make people feel lesser than him.  George was the type that loved to throw the fact that he had money in your face.  His mom would watch George verbally abuse him, constantly putting him down about his pimples and scrawny body size to the point to where he had no self esteem left.  She would stand there and laugh as George verbally tortured him, and if it got to the point where he was taking it to far she would just walk away.  Michael notices his mind starting to focus on George when what he really needed to do was keep his focus on his mom.

His mom went to spend the night at Georges’ house which was a fifteen minute drive down the road.  So the party begins and all of his friends show up to celebrate and have a fun high school party.  Well, four cases of beer later there’s a knock at the door.  His friend goes and answers the door while he’s in that kitchen passing out the last beers to close friends.  His friend comes into the kitchen and tells him that it was a group of college kids who wanted to come in, but we didn’t know them.  His friend had told them that there weren’t enough girls for more guys to come in so they had to leave, so they left.  An hour later everyone except for him and his two friends had headed to the next party.  There’s a loud thud that shakes the house, he steps out of the kitchen and noticed someone had kicked the door in and a group of older guys are piling into his house.  They go back to Michaels’ room where his friend is sleeping and start beating on him.  Michael runs back to his room and takes a few down with him to take some of the attention off his friend.

He remembers blacking out for a few seconds and next thing he knows he’s on his bed with a knife to his throat and five guys hitting him one after the other.  At some point when he blacked out he had grabbed the knife that was against his throat to block it from actually cutting his throat.  The sharp pain of the knife that is now half way into his thumb kicks in, he remembers thinking to himself his thumb was better than his throat.  His memory blurs again and all he can remember is the pain of the knife and feeling of fists constantly hitting him, rotating from his face to his stomach and back to his face again.  The only visions he can remember is the sight of his blood on the bed.  Knowing there was no way out of this he remembers the conversation with his brother in the middle of this beating.  “Don’t show pain” he thought to himself as the taste of blood fills his mouth.  After a few more hits he remembers feeling the sharp pain of the knife that had been buried inside of his thumb being violently pulled out. By time he regains sight the guys were gone.   He slowly stands up and looks down at himself, his clothes now drenched in blood.

His eyes are already beginning to swell and the sour taste of blood gags him.  He looks down at his thumb and sees a chunk of it dangling by threads of skin, with the piece of white bone peaking out.  He looks over to his friend who was also covered in blood, noticing that his friend had been stabbed as well but the knife went all the way through his hand.  His friend gets in his car and drives himself to the hospital.  He thinks about the physical pain he felt that day, but that pain didn’t even come close to the pain he was about to feel.  The seventeen year old picks up the phone and called his mother.

“Mom, we just got jumped.  I’m covered in blood and I was stabbed.  My friend was stabbed too and took himself to the hospital.  I can see the bone in my thumb Mom!”  Michael says trying to hold himself together.  “Wrap up your thumb; I’m with George and am not coming all the way back tonight.”  She says in a cold voice.  “You’ll be fine; you really need to learn how to man up!”  Michael doesn’t reply and just hangs up the phone.  He sinks down to the tile which was beginning to puddle with blood from his face and thumb.  He was alone and the tears begin to flow, the salt from the tears burning the cuts on his face.  He wasn’t crying because of the physical pain, he was crying because he had finally realized he never had a real “Mom”.  That was the day he completely stopped loving his mother.

“I wish my brother was there, he wouldn’t have let that happen!”  He thought to himself.  Daniel was in Afghanistan when this had all happened, serving his time in the Army.  He was the one person in Michaels’ life he could always depend on.  Thinking about that brought him to a year after he got jumped.  He was now eighteen and Daniel was home on mid-tour leave from his second deployment.  They were at their Aunts house for his vacation because his brother didn’t get along with George either.  It was the end of summer and his brother had just gotten in town that morning.  Daniel went to go have lunch with an old high school sweetheart who had actually become very close with their family.  They were all setting everything up for the welcome home party that night, getting drinks ready and the house clean.  It had been a while since his brother left for lunch so Michael starts looking for him.  He looks around the house to see if Daniel had made it back yet and doesn’t find him inside.  He goes out front to see if the girls’ car is back yet.  As he steps out of the front door he notices her car leave but his brother wasn’t in it.

He then looks to his left and notices his brother crouching over by the bushes crying.  Michael remembers feeling a pit in his stomach; he had never seen his brother cry like this.  He was always the strong one.  He goes and crouches by his brother and notices that he’s crying so hard the he can’t even catch a breath.  “What happened man?”  Michael asks confused.  “We’re not real brothers!”  Daniel forces out with a short breath, beginning to cry even harder.  Michaels’ stomach turns as his brother catches his breath and explains that he just found out he has a different father.  The man Daniel grew up thinking was his father really wasn’t.  Michaels’ knees weaken and he hits the ground next to his brother, to weak to stand.  He begins to cry just as hard as his brother.

They both sit in the front yard crying together, not knowing how to take in what they had just found out.  Daniel finally calms down enough to grab him and hug him just like he did when they were kids and everything was wrong.  “This doesn’t change anything.”  Daniel tells him.  “I am still your brother and I love you!  I will always be there for you!”  Michael was still shocked and hurt by the news, but his biggest fear was that he was that he was going to lose his brother, so hearing that comforted him.  Once they pulled themselves together Daniel called their mom.  She kept saying it was a lie, but they knew it was the truth.  They never looked alike growing up and no one ever believe they were actually brothers.  That was the last time he spoke to his mom up until two years ago.  After finding that out he moved in with his Aunt. His mother tried to withdraw him from school and force him to go back to her.  Luckily he was eighteen and allowed to enroll himself in school.  His mind now back in the court room, he smiles to himself happy of the bad memories.  All those thoughts were going to help get him through today.

Michael takes his eyes off his mother and looks around finding a seat in the back of the court room, away from everyone.  As he begins to sit down the words “Please Rise” came from the guard standing in the front.  Michael stands back up and watches the judge come in and take his seat.  The man dressed as a judge seemed too young to be one in Michaels’ eyes.  He had all of his hair, none of which was gray.  As the judge sits down the guard gives everyone else permission to take their seats once again.  Michael catches himself zoning out and quickly realizes he had missed the opening statements that both sides had made to the jury.  He looks over to the jury and is amazed that these twelve random people are the ones that will decide his mothers’ future.

“You may call your first witness.”  The judge states to the prosecutor. 

Michaels’ body tightens up again, knowing the name about to leave the prosecutors mouth.

“We would like to call the son of the accused, Michael Desman, to the stand your honor.”  The prosecutor stated very firmly.

 Michaels’ body begins to tremble once again.  He stands up and straightens out his suit as he walks toward the front of the court room.  While walking he focuses on not making eye contact with his mother.  He keeps his eyes straight forward, finding a cut in the wood under the judge to focus on.  He makes his way into the witness stand and begins to sit down. 

“Please remain standing.”  The guard says in a very monotone voice. 

Michael goes back to standing straight forward, now focusing on the guard. 

“Please place your left hand on the bible, and raise your right hand.” 

Michael once again wipes his left hand on his pants before placing it on the bible and raises his right hand, his forehead already beginning to sweat.  

“Please repeat after me.  I, state your name, swear to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God.”  The guard says. 

“I, Michael Desman, swear to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God.”  He says trying to control his voice as if not to seem nervous.

The guard then moves the Bible away from his hand and walks away.  Michael assumes this means he can sit down, and he does so quickly because the nervousness had made his knees weak.

“Michael will you please state your name and your relationship to the accused for the court records?”  The prosecutor said in a calming voice, noticing his sweaty forehead.

“My name is Michael James Desman, and the accused is my mother.”  Michael said trying to sound confident

“Michael I know this is hard for you, and this is probably the last place on earth you want to be right now.  But, I also want you to understand that you are under oath.  Everything you say here today must be true, you do understand that right?”  The prosecutor says seriously.

“I understand.” Michael says, feeling as if he should’ve said more but that’s all that came out.

“Good, now what I want you to do is tell us exactly what happened between the dates that George died all the way until today.  I want you to be as detailed as possible and please try to remember as much as you can.”  The prosecutor says, allowing Michael to have the floor.

“I was living in Chicago at the time, and I got a call that morning around seven…”  Michaels’ mind takes him back to that day.

 

Author's Note

Ignore the grammar, please just let me know if this seems like a book you would read.