The Second Trial

"So Joseph, can you remember why will you be holding on to the victim with the murder weapon in your hands?"

"No."

"Think Joseph. Have you by chance shot at her accidentally? Or maybe it was out of rage?"

Joe stood on the stand, facing the accusations for the second time. It was terrifying the first time round. because of his guilt. It was numbing the second time. All he could think about was her face, the ash blond hair with the faint fragrance of sandal wood, the sweet smile that could always temper his anger. That was all he could think about.

Her.

My Vanessa

The DA was far away from him, everyone else was as well. He remembered being with her on their first month anniversary, she had been late for fifteen minutes but he was even more so. They had quarreled but then, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

We made up. We had the most wonderful dinner.

He watched the scene in his mind like he was watching a movie, detached from reality.

I can see myself now, holding on to her like I was so afraid I would lose her. After the date, I called her the moment I reached home, wanting hers to be the last voice I hear before I sleep.

"No. You don’t know him." Joe mumbled, staring at the DA with vacant voids that were his eyes.

"What?" The DA was taken aback as Joe’s answer was seemingly out of context.

"You don’t know him…" Joe murmured. The courtroom was silent. Everyone strained to hear him. "He loves her. He’ll never kill her."

"I see it now. He’ll never kill her. But he said such horrible things…in that way…he did…oh God…he killed her…he did!" Joe started swaying slightly with his eyes shut. He gripped the table, gripped it so hard that his knuckles protruded out tense and white. He gripped it like he was trying to hold on to his sanity.

The room gasped, echoing the reaction of those at the first trial in which Joe made that confession in his lunacy. His lawyer stared at him with blazing eyes, betrayed. He had trained Joe to answer all the possible questions that Joe would be grilled with, almost tearing his hair out in the process.

Joe was sentenced previously to murder in the 2^nd degree. His family had wanted Joe completely free and fought extremely hard for it. The new evidence that Frank had risked his reputation for would perhaps, only perhaps, overturn the previous verdict. Joe seemed like he was going to let them all down.

Hector quickly stood up, knowing that Joe had blew the whole case. The jury would love nothing more than to send him back to jail.

Bayport News was following this story very closely. The reporters would have a field day.

"Permission to come to the bench your honor." Hector requested and Judge Kelly Banks, one of the most stern judges in the district, despite the casual modernity of her name, nodded. Both him and the DA approached the bench and spoke in whispered tones.

Joe could not be bothered. Could not be bothered with the judge who was throwing disapproving glances at him. He could not be bother with the efforts of his lawyer, trying to eradicate him from guilt. He could not be bothered with his family members, looking at him with disbelieving eyes, hoping he would be sane for that crucial trial that stood between him and freedom.

"You know the motion cannot be change. Request for plea from not guilty to temporary insanity is not allowed. Please carry on." Judge Banks waved them on.

And she allowed me to spiral deeper and deeper into hell.

If I’m not walking in it already. Why is walking so difficult? Prison riot…yes…let them think that. They’re not too far off from the truth either.

I was fighting for my sanity then. And I lost. I have lost long ago.

Vanessa, where are you? Where am I? Am I dead or alive? If I’m alive, why do I feel so dead?

***

Present

"E flat minor? How the hell am I supposed to jump from the previous stanza right into E flat minor? It’s easy on the keyboard moron! But it’s tough on the guitar." Shane complained as Joe marked some changes to the song that they were working on. Shane wanted to keep the chords simple but Joe always liked to hear chords bringing the songs to only one direction- to a dark descent and an even darker landing.

Joe was too dismal even for Shane, who had been diagnosed with depression since he was ten years old.

"It sounds right."

"It sounds right to your damn ears!" Shane swore a few more expletives that had no effect on Joe whatsoever. Craig who was knocking on his drums languidly was clearly disinterested with whatever was going on. Wayne had not joined their jamming session since he had a test the next day but he would join them for their gig. Wayne always had a test, having been only interested in the most difficult modules in Political Science.

"Just listen to boy genius yah and stop this yakking. I’m sick of it. We’re playing tonight, we have to earn our keeps." Craig drawled, checking out his blurred reflection on the shiny surface of the Shane’s car parked in the garage and satisfied with what he had seen, smiled seductively to himself.

Narcissus.

Joe had always been interested in music as it flowed through him naturally. It was in him. It was something he discovered within himself rather than something he had learned. Music was a lesser known talent of his. He was more famous for his high school record breaking hundred and two hundred meters dashes and his football prowess. However, after sports was forcibly taken out of his life, he had all the time in the world to concentrate on his piano skills which were extremely impressive to begin with.

Music was a bond that forged the friendship among the world’s four most difficult people and without their band, Joe was not even sure if they would actually be friends.

"E flat minor. This is my song. I want this stanza to begin with E flat minor." Joe was stubborn as he finalized the changes in ink. Shane swore again and Joe went to take his place behind the keyboard.

"Hit it." He commanded and Craig began to expertly start the beat for them. 

***

Before they reached Storm, Craig and Shane suddenly felt hungry and wanted a bite. Joe waved them on, indicating that he would wait in the van. Shane did asked him to go along with them for the second time but Joe refused and tried to look cool doing it.

"You want to come? We are passing by Big Ben’s Music Store…you can tinker with the piano there a little." Shane tried to sound as nonchalant as he could but Joe knew Shane meant what he said in concern.

"No thanks. I want to be alone for a while." Joe replied, forcing a smile on his face. "Just get me a can."

Shane raised an eyebrow. "I thought you wanted to be sober?"

"How can I when I got friends like you two?" Joe remarked wryly. Shane shrugged and did not probe any deeper, it was only grabbing a bite, no big deal.

And I do wish to go with them, I do wish to touch that grand piano on that carpeted platform in Big Ben’s, hoping that I can afford it finally.

A simple need, a simple want. I want my life to be simple, not filled with angst, not with so much hurt.

I do. Really. I do.

Depression though was a possessive friend, wanting Joe for itself and no one else. When something Joe did or thought of doing something that would make him remotely happy, Depression would freeze him still to where he was, sending needles piercing through his guts and wrenched his heart so he could remember. So he would remember.

Though he did not really want to.

Depression would never let its nemesis, Happiness, seduce Joe away. Depression would see that Joe remained faithful…

Vanessa. Vanessa. Vanessa.

The scalding water...

NO! My grief is only for Vanessa! Not for myself!

Never for myself….

He pushed open the van’s door and retched.

***

Shane took a deep bite into his burger as he and Craig was walking through Bayport Mall. It was nine at night but most shops were not closing yet. Being a Friday night, it was crowded with patrons of kinds- students, families, lovers, office workers and a few odd balls here and there.

Like us, two freaks who had joined in the pushing and shoving.

The huge mall smelled of ice-cream and waffles and though Shane had no idea why it would be so, the smell was making him very hungry. Craig had spent the last of their money on cigarettes and beer and thus, Shane had to chew slowly, to savor each bite. He watched his good-looking companion checking out his image in all possible reflective surfaces and rolled his eyes. All the four of them had weird quirks that others always misinterpreted.

Craig’s not vain. I think he has …hmm…inferiority complex.

"Wayne’s going by himself right?" Craig asked, pulling the tab off a can at the same time. Shane nodded as he surveyed the movies billboards in their larger than life panels, just looking for something to read.

Shane was a chronic reader, though he would never touch his textbooks and lecture notes.

"Do you think Joe will mind if I ask him for Maggie’s mobile number?"

Shane laughed into Craig’s face. Joe was more his friend than Craig was and Joe’s hostility towards Craig was apparent. The two guys could not stand each other. To an observer who did not the secrets they each bore in the pits of their souls, they would have thought that it was a rivalry between the two highest profiled band members of their garage band. Yet, Joe would beat Craig in the looks department anytime, something that Shane knew Craig was really peeved about.

However, the real reason was that they just could not stand each other.

Because the two of them have the darkest secrets among all four of us. I’m the one who just go along with everybody. Wayne’s the one who whip us in line when we stray.

Craig’s the one with the abusive childhood.

And Joe’s the one that went to jail.

The darkness they found in each other was too appalling, as it mirrored their own. The darkness they saw repelled them, like how the same poles of a magnet would.

"You think Joe will give you the green light to date Maggie? Just like that? And how did you get so hook on Maggie? I thought you wanted to just cruise through. And you not only have to convince Joe, you have to convince the Nanny as well," came Shane’s words of encouragements from a slightly too high-pitched voice for a guy.

Craig shrugged and finished the contents of the can. "Yah. The Nanny. Maybe I should just skip those two stages and get to know her myself."

"I still don’t understand why you’re so hook onto her. From what I’ve seen, she’s pretty but pretty annoying."

"I don’t either," came the unusually soft reply. 

***

The two of them returned to the van to find Joe stoning yet again. Not even the creaky sound of the van’s door opening and closing noisily seemed to stir the block of marble. Shane had to kick Joe’s legs from the passenger seat to announce that they were back. He had to kick the unfeeling limb three times, each time harder than the previous.

"We’re late!" Shane hollered when, finally, Joe blinked his eyes twice before starting the ignition on autopilot.

"You don’t have to shout." His flaxen-haired friend mumbled unhappily.

"Oh yes I have to. You’ve gone to Mars and Earth is like all the way down here. If I don’t shout, you can’t hear!" Shane noticed Joe’s breath smell of mints and knew that his friend had been puking again.

Panic attack. Overwhelming sorrow. One of the two evils.

Or both.

"Just get us there will you?" Craig drawled, lighting up a cigarette. Joe shot Craig a disapproving glance from the rear-view mirror because Craig was going to stink up the van.

"Just get the hell out of my van if you want to smoke will you?" Joe spoke harshly and Craig blew into the front compartment on purpose through the holes in the metallic divider.

Joe unbelted himself and would haul Craig of the van if Shane had not pulled at Joe’s t-shirt to halt him.

"Drop it. We’re late."

And the driver gave a dissatisfied grunt. As a way to expel his anger, he drove them recklessly out of the tight car park. The maniac then sped all the way to Storm, weaving in and out of traffic without any caution and tailgated menacingly whenever he was forced to slow down, leaving behind him irate drivers who, no doubt, would loved to see the van stopped by the traffic police. They were lucky that night though. The roads they had driven on were not patrolled.

Craig’s face was a little pale though he was trying not to look frightened by Joe’s maniacal driving habits.

Shane was just glad they reached Storm alive and in one piece. Joe seemed to have a death wish, but Shane sure did not have one for himself.

Not yet anyway.