I don’t know how to describe this feeling.
It’s probably shock.
It’s almost like a rage that has nowhere to go.
It was supposed to be over last Thursday. Then it was supposed to be over Tuesday. Then a painting fell off the wall and hit a juror in the head. For days I dragged through the monotony of ‘reality’, wondering about the process that would decide the fate of my family. I waited for news. For days there was no news. Then today he texted me: “The jury is deliberating, please pray.”
And then… nothing.
It’s like that last step when you go up the stairs, bit it isn’t there, and when you put your weight down, your whole being goes down. We’re exactly where we were. Edward needs to file an appeal. My mother is coming for Guinevere. Bailey’s mother is coming for her unborn child. The boys’ mother will be coming for them.
I’ve doubled up on my caffeine intake, and still I fell asleep at work. Yet now we have to work harder. We need to raise up our defenses while we burn our bridges.
I NEED A CHANGE