Tokema

And with an ember glow, a fiery haze, back to hell which forth it came… ____________ It’s a rare thing. An unusual thing. To feel this way about someone. A feeling in which you don’t even realize that it is happening. It develops slowly. Creeping up on you like falling asleep. Something you don’t even realize you are having until you are dreaming, or suddenly awaken. To love someone in such a way that you are willing to sacrifice everything. And yes it was worth it. To know the truth. To know what to do. But only love can hurt like this. I know it’s love. The only patient I have ever loved. And it ends like this? Pity really. But I know it’s what's best. Best for everyone really. I’ll miss you… ____________ The room was hot and reeked with a musty smell of old papers, cigarettes, and wood. The fans, while fluttering, did little to help the heat. Each drag and puff of a cigarette made the room even more hot and unbearable. The bodies all squished together in the seats, balcony, aisles, and down the hall were of no help either. The smell of sweat was heavy. However, through the chattering voices, grunts, and heaves, Doris did not notice a thing. Nine… there were nine of them. I think… I remember nine. There was the beggar, the screamer, the… the… oh no what did he say? I missed it. They don’t believe me. I know they don’t believe me. I wouldn’t either if I was in their shoes. They are probably going to throw me in jail. The death penalty perhaps. Would that be any better? I think, maybe. But I don’t want to die, but I can’t keep living like this. I don’t wan- Doris Draker sat in a wooden chair and stared blankly ahead waiting to hear the decision. Her lawyer forced her into pleading insanity. He knew it was the best option for her, even though he couldn't believe her story. He was assigned to her because she could not provide her own attorney, and no one would take her case even if she could. She could hear the chattering behind her as they all waited eagerly to hear the decision. Doris looked down at her chair, she could see chipped and splintered wood from her nails. She had been scratching at the armrest, and it was not until now that she realized there were little pieces of wood underneath her nails. It didn’t hurt though. She examined the wood pieces, trying her best to ignore the voices behind her. She picked at them, removing splinters one by one. She heard one woman behind her saying, “I hope she rots in jail.” She heard a priest praying, “If you make the Lord your refuge, if you make the Highest your shelter, no evil will conquer you; no plague will come near your home. The Lord says, ‘I will rescue those who love me. I will protect those who trust in my name. When they call on me, I will answer; I will be with them in trouble. I will rescue and honor them. I will reward them with a long life and give them my salvation.” Psalm 91:9-10:1416. Doris knew the passage well. She had been to see many priests. And even had an exorcism performed on her before she could no longer control herself. Although she had been weary of that priest. Nothing helped. No matter how many times she went to church, no matter how many times she prayed, no matter at all. He was with her. The courtroom fell into a hush when the judge returned to his chair. “All rise for the honorable judge Devan Thomas.” The judge was a man most likely in his 50s, not much older than Doris herself. Devan had faded red hair that was neatly combed back. He styled it in a way that made him look much younger than his face. Doris had seen the style on a few young men while she had been out and about not too long ago. “Will the jury foreperson please stand?” A man stood. He looked to be much older than Doris and held a stern face. His hair was gray and he looked tired and worn from his days serving on jury duty. And no one would blame him with a case like hers. His eyes were cold and they seemed to stare right through her, as if trying to avoid her body being there. But obviously, she was there. She was the whole reason for every one of those people being there. He could not avoid it. His eyes seemed to say, ‘If I pretend not to see her then she will not see me. She’ll pass me by.’ “Has the jury reached a unanimous verdict?” “Yes, your honor” His voice cracked and he handed the verdict to the clerk who passed it to the judge. He stared at the paper, face unchanging, and let out a low sigh as if he agreed with what the jury had concluded, but did not want to admit that. He handed the form back to the clerk. “The jury finds the defendant not guilty under reasons of insanity…” Doris could hear the clerk continue reading but it sounded the same to her as if she was underwater. Slowly sinking further and further into darkness. The voice in her head began to laugh and suddenly he was there. Standing before her, same as everyone else in the courtroom. Only no one seemed to notice him, as he leered at her. Doris tried her best not to look at it.