Narrative - Be Mindful of Those Closest to You

Be Mindful of Those Closest To You

“One...Two...Red....Blue”, Sadie sat on her bed rereading the book of her childhood. You know, your favorite book that your parents read to you as a kid. But for Sadie, her favorite childhood book was only categorized by the way she remembered her parents.

There was one parent, two parents, a red one and a blue one. Red, the color of her lost mom’s face after a night of drinking. Blue, the color of her father’s cold, decomposing hands.

Sadie was 15. Though by all appearances, she could’ve been much older. She had long, brown hair and brown eyes. Nothing extraordinary that you’d look twice at, but she was much more intelligent than your average person.

She’d often look back on how things used to be, before it happened. All those road trips with her father, what fun they used to have. But that time is gone now; gone and never coming back.

. . .

A guard came into her cell. Sam, was his name. An older gentlemen, his skin wrinkled from years of sun damage. His eyes were dull and seemingly lifeless, yet full of youth.

She stood up, he escorted her out of her cell, and to the courtroom.

She looked out on a panel of judges, their judging eyes glancing down at her then back at there desk. She didn’t know what they were looking at, but she knew right away this wouldn’t end well.

“Ms Sadie Lauren Holmes” one of the judges said, the inflection in his voice revealing a demeaning tone towards her.

“You are charged with the murder of your father, one John Stein Holmes. The night in question, Sunday, June 18th 1987”

Another of the judges spoke up, “You will be allowed to present your defense, please proceed to the stand”

She walked up to the stand. Her heart beating a million miles an hour. Her mind racing, imagining the outcome. “What if I’m found guilty?”, she thought to herself. She got to the stand and sat down, gazing out on her father's judging friends. Their eyes filled with nothing but hate.

“On the night of June, 18th, where were you at 9 PM?”

“I was in my room” she replied, “writing an essay for my social sciences class”

“Please describe exactly what happened on that night. From the moment you got home to the time of death”

“I’ll try my best, but my memory is a little hazy. It’s just not a night I like to remember”

“Very well, proceed”

She started to speak, her voice quivering as she choked on her own words,

“It all began around 3 o’clock when my dad picked me up. His face seemed flustered as if he was angry. I could tell something was bothering him as he asked me neither what happened at school, or even spoke to me as he usually does. He seemed to be worried about something but I couldn’t tell what or get an answer from him. We got home and he told me to go upstairs, he said he needed to talk to my mom about something, I never knew what. For hours I could hear them downstairs arguing. One would yell at the other and so on. But around 8:45 or so, it just stopped. I heard my mother’s car leaving the driveway and drive away. I figured maybe it was over, but I didn’t know how wrong I was. I walked downstairs and to my surprise, no one was there. I called my father’s name but there was no answer.

Outside, by the pool I saw what looked like someone had painted the chaise a dark red. Little did I know what it really was. I walked to the pool and..

I’m sorry I can’t”

“Ms. Holmes please continue”, the judge said

“Fine” She replied with a sad loathing in her voice

“I walked out and there he was. Laying face down in the pool surrounded by a cloud of blood, six bullet holes on his back”

“Is that all?” He asked.

“Yes, up until the police were called and arrived”

“I