On the Edge of Tomorrow, page 12
“I ADVISE AGAINST this,” Marc whispered in my ear for the hundredth time.
I looked over to Jacob’s table, where he sat with his hands in his lap, head hung low as if in shame. His mother had her arm wrapped protectively around his shoulders. Anger surged anew within me. I did the right thing. And if I were going to prison, at least my statement would be out there for the world to ponder. I looked back at my attorney, his eyes pleading with me not to throw away a chance at freedom, slim as it was.
“I understand,” I whispered back, my voice trembling just a little. His shoulders slumped in premature relief.
“Put me on the stand.”
His head fell. Shuffling papers, he cleared his throat, not taking his eyes off the front of the room.
“We call Sharla Jones to the stand.”
Gasps could be heard throughout the room. Even the prosecutor and judge couldn’t hide their surprise at me being called to testify on my behalf. Up to this point, all anyone could get out of me was a curt “I plead the fifth” or “I want my lawyer.”
Standing, I ran my hands down my skirt to steady their trembling one last time. Kira leaned over her seat, grabbing my hand. I looked over to my barely legal niece’s face and saw fear and pride warring over her features. She gave me an encouraging smile. My trembling lessened.
If she could be strong for me, I could show strength for her. It was time someone stood up for the victim, time justice was served.
Gathering my handwritten notes, I walked calmly up to the witness stand. Placing my hand on the bible, I repeated the words I was given before sitting primly on the most uncomfortable seat I’d ever sat in before.
“Ms. Jones, I understand you have a statement you wish to read before the court?”
My attorney’s voice was clear and crisp, not a hint of his disagreement leaking from underneath his legal veneer. As far as anyone knew, we were in agreement on this—it was planned, a calculated move that would show my remorse. No one would know from his stance that he had yelled and argued with me until his face had turned red, until finally relenting, muttering something about retainer and some such nonsense. He leaned his tailored behind—legs crossed at the ankles—casually against the desk, hands supporting his weight next to his body. His sky-blue eyes encouraged me even when I knew he was certain I was signing my prison sentence.
Kira was still visible behind him. I hoped he did that on purpose, so I would continue to gather strength from her. I was glad he chose that position, that stance. He looked like just one of the guys having a conversation. Kira had a modest summer dress on. Her eyes were full with unshed tears as she clenched her parents’ hands.
My sister, a twin pillar of strength and support, sat with her husband. Kira was between the two, her lips drawn in a tight, thin line. My sister had aged badly these past six months. Her face had lost its healthy glow and was thinner than it had ever been, and her dark, curly hair was streaked with gray. The three sat firm and resolute, all in solid support of me. I was guilty, and all five of us knew it.
I felt my lips turn into a slight smile at the sight of the three of them. No matter what happened today, they’d be okay. Looking back down at my notes, I cleared my throat. I had nothing to hide.
“I do.” My voice was weaker than I had intended. Clearing it again, I took a sip of the water that was provided. I took a deep breath. Now or never. My heart pounded as I looked over at the faces of the jury, my mind resolved in doing what was right, no matter how difficult. Again.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I want to apologize for bringing my handwritten statement up with me. I’m typically a very shy person. Normally, speaking in front of you, the people in the audience, the media, the lawyers, or even the judge, would have me so nervous I would barely be able to utter a word, let alone tell you what happened. I’d be trembling badly. I wouldn’t even be able to hold my papers, let alone get enough strength to speak loudly enough for you to hear.” My voice wavered only a little as I spoke. I hoped I could continue with my steady resolve.
“But I’m not trembling because I’m scared. I’m angry. You should be as well. Six months ago, Jacob Raines raped my nineteen-year-old niece, Kira.”
“Objection!” Chaos exploded in the room, as I knew it would, with the prosecutor’s objection.
“Ms. Jones, there had better be a reason behind this,” the judge demanded, giving me a stern look from over the bench that divided us.
“There is, your Honor.” I looked up at him, knowing my brown eyes sparkled with unshed tears. “I am here to explain why I did what I did, and I can’t do that unless you allow me to share it from the beginning.”
Motive and a hint of a confession. It was what the prosecutor had been looking for. I knew that would shut everyone up. The prosecutor looked down at his client, whispered something, then nodded and took his seat. This was going to be difficult.
The judge sat for a moment, thinking. It stretched on for an eternity. Finally, he spoke. “I’ll allow it as long as the members of the jury understand that Jacob Raines was found innocent of those charges. Any reference to rape is alleged.”
I pointed to Jacob, who was now looking up at me with shock, his hatred quickly leaking back into his features. I knew his lawyer told him to keep his head down because it made him look vulnerable. When he looked at me, with as much hate as he had, it was almost impossible to pity the bastard. “That man raped my niece, who in many ways was still a child.” I couldn’t keep the anger out of my voice and didn’t even bother trying.
I looked back at the jury, hoping they all saw his hate-filled face before he wisely hid it against his mother’s shoulder.
“Six months ago, my niece was raped, and the courts failed her. Please, don’t fail her again. At that trial, it was said that she wanted it. There was a condom in her pocket, alcohol in her system, and she was dressed provocatively. People said that she egged him on, that she was at a party—and you know how things can get out of hand at a party. People regret things in the morning they didn’t at night. They said she should have known better than to leave her drink unsupervised, that being nineteen, she shouldn’t have been drinking in the first place. And then, he was let off on a technicality.” My voice rose with anger. I cleared it and took another sip of water. I could feel my cheeks heating as my anger and hatred rose, and I tried to bring myself under control.
“A technicality.” My bitterness was undeniable, but it couldn’t be helped. Trying to keep the seething anger I still held at bay, I continued. “Let me tell you what really happened.
“Six months ago, I received an excited call from Kira. A man she liked was in her trigonometry class. He was a few years older than her, but because she’s smart, she tested out of a lot of math classes, and was in an advanced level with older students.”
The judge cleared his throat.
“Sorry.” I quickly became embarrassed, but I was so proud of her. “His name was Jacob, and he claimed he needed help studying. They weren’t at a party as everyone claimed. She wasn’t trying to impress a sorority or wearing clothes fit for a stripper. She was at the library. In jeans and a sweater.” My anger was back. I glanced at Marc, my attorney, for support. He nodded his head slightly. Apparently, he thought I was doing well and had their attention.
“Kira believes when she went to the bathroom that he ruffied her, spiking her Gatorade with the drug as well as a shot of vodka. That man plotted and planned to rape my niece, a child!” I took a deep, shaky breath. “She woke up the next morning in the bushes, her clothes thrown on top of her, sticks and garbage in her hair. Her virginity was gone. In its place were bloodstained thighs and bruised breasts.” My voice cracked, anguish plain on my face. I knew tears fell, but I ignored them as best I could.
“I was her first call. It’s a conversation I will never forget.” My face crumpled, a sob escaping. Marc held out a box of tissues, and I used one, clutching it in my hand before continuing. “Her voice was so small, so broken. It shook like I’d never heard before.” I looked at Kira. Her parents held her between them, tears streaming freely down all three pairs of cheeks. I didn’t bother to wipe the ones that continuously fell down mine.
“She called me because her parents lived out of state. She had wanted to leave the nest but still wanted family close by when she went to school. I was her guardian, her protector.” My voice cracked, the pain was audible. “I failed her.”
Sniffing, I took another tissue from Marc, blowing my nose and wiping my eyes.
“I told her to call an ambulance, and I would be there as soon as possible. There was evidence of drugs, alcohol, and semen in her body. At the trial that man,” I pointed to Jacob, “that monster—claimed they had consensual sex, and he left her still studying in the library afterward. There was no way to prove his story false. He admitted to having sex with her. He claimed the rape happened after.”
I looked at each of the juror’s faces. “I know my niece. She was in school on an academic scholarship. She lived off-campus with me and has never had alcohol that she hasn’t told me about before and after. She was saving herself for someone special. When she had called me about her tutoring date, she hoped it would have been the first of many dates, that maybe he would be the one she would eventually give herself to. But not that night. She took her studies seriously. Kira wants to be a veterinarian, helping sick animals. She might not be able to do that now.” The anger was back in full.
“Now, she can’t go out in public alone. She only drinks from bottles that she carries around with her. We can’t go to a restaurant, because she needs to watch the food get prepared and handed to her. She’s lost weight, lost trust, lost security. And he got off on a technicality.”
Tears spilled down my cheeks, leaving behind hot, angry trails of fire in their wake. The anger I felt at the injustice fueled me now. I didn’t even care if it seeped into my voice. I stared the jury down, my righteous anger pouring off me in waves.
“What would you do if the system failed your niece, your sister, your daughter? What would you do if justice wasn’t served, but the victim was blamed for the rapist’s actions? Would you fail that innocent child again?
“I protected Kira and any other young girl that monster might have hurt again. When everyone else failed her, I protected her from the man that plotted and planned to hurt her in the worst way a woman can be hurt. He can no longer hurt another child. He will no longer have the urge nor the ability to spill semen into another innocent girl. I protected her and gave her the justice the courts failed to.” I took a deep breath. Here goes nothing.
“The weekend after the verdict, I was picking up dinner at a local restaurant that had a bar area. I saw him.” My mouth turned into a disgusted sneer as I glanced at Jacob. “He was celebrating his victory rather loudly with what I could only assume were his friends as they drank and hit on girls. I sat at the bar, my takeout growing cold as I watched him. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Nothing in his life had changed. Nor would it. But Kira’s life would never be the same.” Pain and anger warred for supremacy in my voice. I took a shaky breath. After taking a sip of water, I continued, knowing this part would seal my fate.
“Something snapped in me that night. I watched Jacob stumble into the bathroom, and I followed.” I looked down, knowing I needed to explain this in detail. It wasn’t pre-meditated like the prosecutor wanted everyone to believe. My voice was soft in the quiet room.
“When I was younger, my father taught me how to defend myself against attackers, showing me how to use my body as a weapon to avoid getting mugged or raped. I’ve always carried a knife on me. It was ingrained in me, something I put on, like underpants or shoes. Before that day, I’d never had a reason to use it. I wasn’t even sure if I could.” Nothing could be heard except the soft tapping of the courtroom reporter. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath—waiting to see if I’d actually confess. Even though my voice was angry and defiant, it was barely above a whisper, and sounded loud against the silence. I looked up into Marc’s steady gaze, unable to look at anyone else for fear I’d lose my nerve.
“That night, I followed Jacob into the men’s room without thought. He laughed when he saw me. I don’t think he even recognized me. He taunted and teased me like I had heard him doing to the waitresses in the bar. I don’t even know what he said. I just remember being angrier than I had ever been in my life. I walked right up to him while he peed and grabbed his penis. I think I was as shocked as he was when I cut it off.”
Gasps were heard in unison. I saw some of the female jurors put their hands to their mouths and the men wince, rubbing their hands against their thighs. I continued to talk, never taking my eyes off Marc.
“I sliced again, removing his scrotum, castrating him fully. I wanted him to pay. I wanted him to feel the pain Kira feels, the pain I feel. I was so unbelievably angry.”
I looked down, not sure what to do. I knew I had to continue. Marc wanted me to show remorse for what I did. But I didn’t know that I could. I still couldn’t figure out if I even had remorse. I was glad he was disfigured. Now, everyday of his life he would have a reminder of what he did and what it cost.
“What happened next, Ms. Jones?” Marc’s soft voice intruded on my thoughts, his formality shocking me more than anything else could have at that moment.
“I took the bloody appendage and carried it out to the table where his friends were sitting in the bar. I slammed it on the table, squishing the testicles by accident. I remember telling them, ‘Now you can celebrate, justice has been served.’ And I drove home.”
I looked away from Marc to Kira’s shocked face. She knew what I’d done but not the details. And hearing me tell it in such a matter-of-fact tone, I knew it wasn’t what she had expected. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, I continued. Marc wasn’t going to like this next bit.
“I know two wrongs don’t make anything right. I also know that I should feel remorse for what I did. But I can’t.” Kira’s eyes filled with tears as her lips pursed shut in a tight line. She gave me a soft nod of understanding. My voice cracked with tears as I looked at Kira, speaking directly to her. “That bastard took everything from you. He deserves so much worse. I’m so sorry, baby girl.”
Sobs pushed their way out of my throat as I fought to hold them back. I had to be strong for her. I had to share my strength with her. I looked up at the jury, tears blurring my vision as I tried to stare each person in the eye. None could hold my stare for long.
“Imagine someone you love,” I said between sobs. “Feel the pain as their joy, trust, and security gets taken from them in the worst possible way. Now imagine how you’d feel if you were in my place! If I were in that restaurant again, watching him celebrate his victory at getting away with raping my niece, I’d do it again.”
The hatred returned to my voice, and I took strength from it. “Don’t fail her again. Don’t take away the only person that stood up for her. I know I’m guilty of castrating that pig, but please, don’t take me away from Kira.”
I finally looked at Marc. I could see the anger in his eyes but also the respect. No matter what happened today, he was proud of me. And while that thought brought relief to my spirit, nothing compared to the look of love on Kira’s tearstained face.
No matter what happened today, I did the right thing. And people would talk.
The prosecutor didn’t have a whole lot to say to me. I’d admitted to the crime I’d been charged with. All that he really needed to do was to convince the jury that I deserved life in prison for what I’d done. And thanks to me, Marc had the much harder job in convincing them that I’d suffered enough— that I wouldn’t do something that heinous again.
I was allowed to return to my seat shortly after my confession. Kira leaned over the railing, embracing me in a tight hug. “I love you so much,” her soft voice whispered in my ear. I couldn’t speak, my throat was clogged with emotion.
Marc was an absolute genius with his closing arguments. He was going for temporary insanity, which was a decent argument if one considered the facts. He cited cases of women who’d snapped after traumatic or perceived traumatic instances. He referenced the Lorena Bobbitt case that everyone was familiar with, even if they couldn’t remember all the details. The important part to my case was that she was found innocent. Kim Tran, a woman who cut off her man’s member, had to undergo counseling, and Katya Kharitovonova who was sentence to two years of hard labor for castrating her cheating man.
In the cases he cited, all the men whose appendages had been removed were able to have them reattached, just like Jacob. Although Jacob would never father children, it was not fully stated whether those men could as well. Marc wisely skirted around that issue, focusing more on the fact that those women had witnessed their partners in various acts of carnal pleasures with other women. Those acts weren’t nearly as traumatic as what Kira had been through, as Jacob had allegedly forced her into sex. And who could blame me for losing my mind, when I was witness to such callous celebration while my niece huddled at home, afraid to even go to a restaurant.
When he was finished, even I had doubts as to if I could ever commit an act like that again.
The jury deliberated for two days. It was all the news or social media could talk about. Marc had us under house arrest for the entire time, until he received the call that they were ready to read the verdict. I was surprisingly calm until the ride to the courthouse. It was only then that the realization that I could spend the rest of my life in prison hit me.
Kira grabbed my hand. “Aunt Sharla,” she began in her customary soft voice, “I want you to know that no matter what happens, I love you. I know you did what you did because you love me. And that even though you say you’re not sorry, I know you. And it’s okay. I will be okay.”
