Hey. Thanks for all your reviews! I slept in until 12 pm on the 22nd, and when I checked my email, I got 5 review alerts, all for Murderer! Thank you so much, and a lot of time has probably passed, because I've been doing research. At least by the time I'll be in high school I'll know some things about this stuff. I just checked my stats, too. My highest hits were on Driven, at 291. Now, it's Murderer at 357! Sweet! (As of the 27th, we're at 404 on Murderer!) And as of the 29th, I finally saw REIGN STORM! I almost couldn't, but I DID! YAY! I finally know what happened!
People, so you know, I've been remaking Colliding of Two Forces! The first chapter was redone (and long), but you can skip half of it because from Dumbledore's arrival on because it is just retyping most of chapter 3: Will and Won't (remember, it's now during HBP). Chapter 3 is now complete as well.
I am putting up a Silver Child crossover soon as soon as I find the notebook I wrote in when I was in Russia…and also, a story where each chapter will be describing dreams I had involving Danny…yeah, I'm crazy.
As a last fiction notice, I'd like to say that I'll be making a songfic off of I Miss You by Blink 182 (Thanks Katrina-Kaiba!), and Love is Blind, a mushy story. Please see my profile for more info.
DISCLAIMER: still have Butch and Mackenzie in my hands. STILL, no ransom from Jo, and no rights to DP. Poop.
RATING: T for language and mature themes.
Pretype start: August 22nd
Pretype middle 1: August 27, 2005, 2:06 am
Pretype middle 2: August 30, 2005, 1: 24 am
Chapter 4
"Six Days"
Danny sat at his computer for ages, papers all over his desk. He persistently grabbed for a pen and scribbled a spare law note on his paper. All week, since he had learned about Sam's trial, his stomach was lurching all day long and every time he thought, his body plunged into a quick heat surge.
He headed for his sink and splashed cold water on his face. He had to stay up, he had to! Sam's fate might rest in his hands! He wiped his face and got back to his computer. He Googled the topic "jail trial info". He found an interesting link…Victim Witness Info…might come in handy…He clicked the link and started reading it.
Immediately, his hand clutched a pen and a fresh paper and began to ruin it. His ink was running low, but that was fine with him; Danny had at least 5 other ten-pack packs of pens. He could go on for a year if he wanted.
"If suspect found…" he murmured, writing the words down, "police might go to City Attorney to see if person gets arrested or appears in court. Very often the police don't go to City Attorney and just give citation telling when to appear in court. Might not go to court anyway because of danger he poses."
Danny scrolled down, skipping the last sentence. Arraignment…interesting. He started a fresh indent mark and began scribbling again.
"If arrest and hold defendant in jail, court holds arraignment next day, but within 48 hours after filing charges. If not arrested, told to attend court on a specific date…first appearance is initial appearance. There judge tells rights, blah, blah, blah," Danny muttered, skipping already written info. "Oh! Judge says whether to arrest or release pending trial."
Danny scrolled down again, this time to a much shorter section called Bail and Pretrial Release. Raising and eyebrow, he raised his pen to paper as if his life depended on it, still ignoring the feeling in the pit of his stomach. Worry about me later, right now, we've got to learn all we can. For Sam. More pain and heat surged through his body, but he ignored it.
"Release most suspects if trusted to show up in court on specific day. If not or is dangerous, held in jail until trial or required to post bail."
Danny scrolled down even further, although not necessary, since the section above was so short. This one was called No Contact Order. He skimmed the large section and finally decided it was pretty pointless. He went down further. Pre Trial Hearings. Nice.
"If defendant pleads guilty at arraignment, pretrial held. Hearing must be held to see if prosecutor could use any of defendant's statements could be used against them. Prosecutor must learn if statement was made voluntarily. Also must be known if prosecutor could use evidence."
He scrolled down to a heading that he swore made his heart skip a beat. Trial. This is what he had been researching; this is what he wanted to know more than anything just so he could get to his best friend. More pain.
Breathing heavily, he wrote furiously, taking quick glances to the file every now and then. "Trial held within 60 days of arraignment, defendant has choice to be tried by jury or judge. City may also want jury trial. After trial date scheduled, may receive subpoena—what?—saying time and place. Assistant City Attorney may get interview beforehand to discuss testimony, procedure and answer any questions. Defendant's attorney able to discuss case with victim witness."
He scrolled down further, where the next heading read TESTIMONY in capital letters. He gave an involuntary gulp as he flashed his lamp more on the paper.
Meanwhile, Jack was heading down for a glass of water, for his mouth could not swallow as easily anymore. He walked past Danny's room where he could see under the crack of the door. Beneath it bright light shot out and for a split second surged and returned to normal, if not slightly weaker. He yelled hoarsely, "Danny, go to bed already!"
A small response escaped Danny.
"Yes, Dad," he said, turning off the lamp, putting the computer in sleeping mode, and diving into bed, thrusting the covers over him. Jack slowly opened the door suspiciously, muttering something about ghosts possessing his son, seeing Danny's black hair covering closed eyes, collapsed on a pillow. Jack smiled to himself; he looked so innocent, so young when he was sleeping.
But truth be told, he wasn't so innocent at all. He was robbed of whatever was left of it when he found out that Sam was going to trial. And the more Danny thought about it, the more heat went through him and the more pain gathered in the pit of his stomach. Sam…it was all he could think about. But for how long? Just now? Or since before this ordeal? He didn't know. But what did it matter?
Danny threw the covers off of him and woke up his computer, continuing his research.
The sooner he got Sam back, the better.
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Sam got up amazingly late that morning—around eleven thirty—and clambered downstairs, dressed in her long nightgown rushed downstairs as she realized how much time was left. Only six days. Six days to find an attorney, six days to bail her out of punishment, six days to return everything to normal. Six days to tell her parents, who, hands down, would malfunction, since they always lived in a happy world where birds sang beautiful songs to you, where heartbreak was the most foreign thing in the world, where everyone was always friends, and death by choice was unheard of.
Newsflash, parents, that world doesn't exist, she thought. In this world, there are people who feel that life isn't worth all the trouble, there are people think that other people really deserve to die, and the birds mostly turn their backs on you coldly, only letting out a lonely, icy chirp.
She walked down the stairs, where her parents sat, sewing, reading the paper, jogging, and whatever else was a strange thing to do in the morning. Sam shielded her eyes as she walked down the staircase; she never was much of a morning person.
"Mom? Dad?" she asked. They turned their heads with great force the second she spoke. It really freaked Sam out how that happened, it was like they had bat sonar's or something. "Um, I need an attorney." That much was out.
"For what?" asked her father cheerily.
"Um…see, well—I've been blamed for m u r d e r." There. It's out. It'll be quite interesting to see how my parents deal with this. Must shatter their idea of the world. Maybe they'll finally see how bratty, unremorseful, and hateful it is.
"Why?" asked her mother suspiciously, lowering her glasses.
"I don't know, but someone blamed me for Paulina's d e a t h and now I have a trial in six days, so I need an attorney."
"Well, Sam, we can't help you there. You've started it alone, you're doing it alone, you're finishing it alone," said her mother solemnly.
"What?" she broke out. "But I never did it!"
"Well, from what you've told us about Paulina, everything points to you," said her father.
"But I didn't do it! Does it look like I'm a m u r d e rer?" she cried out, pointing to herself. Her parents looked up at her and surveyed.
"Yup," they both concluded. Sam couldn't take it anymore; were these here parents? That were blaming her for m u r d e r? Was there anyone on her side?
"You know what? Screw you, God knows you deserve it. You can't even trust your own kid with what they say when it's the truth. One day you're going to end up in a coffin the same way Paulina did, through someone else. You're always so happy and jumpy like the world is perfect. Then you blame me for m u r d e r. Well, I'll tell you one thing: the world isn't perfect. It never was, and it'll never get better, because all these asses are out running around with steak knives throwing them into the backs of innocent bystanders like damned ninjas. And then you just realize it and blame the first person you see for the worst crime. Ever hear of the tell-tale heart? The story? Well, if I really did do it, wouldn't that be happening to me right now? You never consider the possibilities of something and just go on as if nothing ever happened."
Her parents sat there continuing on as if Sam had not just burst out with her speech. A furious lump rose in Sam's throat. How could they brush her off just like that? Shouldn't they at least listen? This wasn't even fair, not even by the law's terms!
"HELLO? Do you mind? Your kid is talking here? Or have you disowned me? I wouldn't be surprised!" she bit out bitterly. Nothing. She growled, and continued. "Fine. I truly hope that you'll d i e in the most painful way in the world. And when you do die in a mass of your mixed b l o o d, we'll all celebrate the day you d i ed yearly because you two were that much of s."
She stormed back out and headed up for her room and shut the door with extreme force. She stood there, seething in her deep purple room. She suddenly didn't care about the trial. As long as her parents didn't give a crap, she'd go to jail. Any time, any day.
But what about Danny and Tucker? They care. But do they? Yes, they do, I'm sure. Sam just fell onto her bed, sobbing and crying like never before.
Several hours later, after Sam had cried herself to sleep, her mother entered the room carefully.
"Samantha?" she asked gently. Sam jerked awake and stared with coldness and hatred at her through a mascara-tracked face.
"What do you want? Have you suddenly gone back to caring?"
"We just want to help!"
"Oh, right. And Danny's Satan."
"We'll find you an attorney, the best we can."
"I'll handle it myself. I'm fourteen, and I'm tough. So I'll just do this on my own."
Sam had trouble getting out the words because anger surged through every muscle in her body and that lump from before only got larger. When Sam's mother reluctantly left the room, Sam collapsed again and began crying hysterically, curled into a little ball.
She wanted love, she wanted a normal life, she wanted…she wanted Danny. Danny was always there for her, no matter what, and always would be. Even if she was in jail, he would skip school and spend the day with her in the cell. Danny was her plush toy, her teddy bear whom she could tell anything to. And with this, she finally stopped.
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Danny furiously wrote on the paper, fueled by his notion to save Sam as if it were overly caffeinated coffee. He just started on Testimony.
"When witness name called, will come to stand, take oath of truth, and be seated on witness stand. City Attorney/assistant will ask about relevant knowledge on case, called direct examination. After prosecutor's questions, then defendant jury Q's." He continued reading on about when to leave if you are the witness yourself. He once more skimmed the rest of the Testimony section. Witness procedure. The oath, be prepared, think before you speak, speak clearly and distinctly, remain calm, be short and to the point, be yourself, witness fee, no one requires the defendant in a criminal trial to testify of any kind of even to offer an offense…Boring.
He scrolled down and his stomach went straight to the Olympics to twist itself in odd shapes. The following heading was entitled Sentencing. It pained him to see it greatly, but if she was, he needed to know what was going on.
"Normally held after plea/finding of being guilty. Judge will take in account City Attorney's take and defendant's attorney's take…" Blah, blah, blah, and a bottle of crap. That was basically the rest of the document, anyway.
Danny went back to Google and typed in a different search. Jail Punishment. He immediately found a good link and clicked it. He skimmed it and found that it was a collection of crapola. Or at least, crap to him.
Danny's eyes strayed to the clock. Two in the morning. He should get some sleep, God knows he deserved it. And really, he would have debated it longer if all the results weren't a bunch of crap.
Danny fell dead asleep on his bed after powering everything down. And he found himself in school out of the darkness.
"Hey, Sam," he said wearily.
"Hey," she said.
"So, what's up?"
"No attorney yet."
"But the trial is tomorrow."
"Well, then, looks like its tough luck to me. Straight to the slammer," she said, accentuating the last word as she shut her locker closed. Danny knew this wasn't going to happen, but best leave Sam to think what she was going to think.
And Danny shot upwards, finding himself in bed. It wasn't a nightmare, but what if it did happen? What if it did? What would become of them? But right now…he checked the clock, seeing it was five thirty in the morning. With this, Danny collided with the bed again and immediately fell asleep.
And so Danny continued researching over the week. Five days…four days…three days were left and Danny grew more nervous with each passing day. He didn't know if Sam had an attorney, if there were any witnesses, and after stressing his mind, he finally realized that he could be accounted as a witness.
FlashbackDanny flew high above the luscious trees of Amity Park Public Park with an air of carelessness around two in the morning. He flew low and found a feminine figure standing on the path. There was another shadow nearby her as well.
A slight breeze passed through his hair and comforted him, but in that moment, the second shadow leapt on top of the figure and the figure fell limply to the ground, followed shortly by the screams of girl.
End FlashbackHe knew what happened, but he really didn't know who did it. He truly didn't know what happened but as long as he was there to see the actual thing happening, he was going to be called to the stand.
And he didn't have the least idea of what to do up there.
Chapter 4
Chapter 5: sometime when I get my butt off to redo that search…
Yeh, not much a cliffie, but a decent one, I suppose. I can't wait to write the ending. All of you are going to be like, "WHAT?" Oy…I'm so right now! A few weeks ago, my friend got the school supply list and I have yet to get mine…and it's six days to the start of school. Kind of ironic, eh?
People, please! I beg of you! Please read D e a t h is But the Next Greatest Adventure, Missing in my Mind, Fusion, Franz Ferdinand, Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, Following Me To My Grave, Colliding of Two Forces…yeah, pick whichever one you want. This is a weird place to say it, but…DiBtNGA is for you "rise from the d e a d" people…MimM is for those of you who love those change over the summer stories…Fusion is for sci-fi/Spiderman dudes…FF is for romantics who also like some action and angst….TCfSR is for people who really love and appreciate the beauty and intensity of angst…FMTMG is for those of you who love the delusional ones…CoTF is for HP/fantasy junkies. Have fun!