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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
a non-fiction short story written about an article, "2-year-old taken away from parents because they used marijuana, killed by foster mother" written by fox43 newsroom.

Submitted: December 11, 2016

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Submitted: December 11, 2016





“She was so happy, so smart.” I cried out to the reporter while being held by my husband Brian.

My name is Suzin, my daughter’s name is Cathy. My extremely irresponsible husband wanted to smoke weed all day and brag about it to his “friends.” He got caught one day and we lost our beautiful baby girl.

I hate having to do this, pretending to still be in love with Brian. I should have left him when his habits started. Putting Cathy in that predicament wasn’t what I wanted, but I couldn’t leave him. We had a 2-year-old daughter together; I didn’t want to be the bad guy. I did that for her, so she could grow up with a father. So pretending to still love him will be the last thing I’ll be able to do for her.

The reporter leaves with the camera twice the size of his head. I’ve been in front of those cameras so much in the last couple days I could probably tell you where every button on the damn thing is.

“Are you ok?”  Brian asks while hugging me. I push him off.

“I’m fine.” I tell him, he doesn’t believe me. I walk to the bench and he follows almost sitting atop of me. “Get off of me, there are no cameras.” He moves over about two inches away. I roll my eyes and move further.

“I’m going to get some water.” Brian says standing and walking away.

It’s that smell, the smell of skunk and cigars on him that repulses me, makes my bones ache.

I look over to the court room and my lawyer Dave is walking out of it. You know the old fart that seems to own 100 suits. No hair but always looks nice. To me, he looks like a dumbass, but he’s the best dumbass we could find. He walks over to me, and passed him in the courtroom I see her. Mary; a woman who was once a better mother in the eyes of the law then me. The woman who took the life of my precious Cathy.

“Are you ready?” I look up at Dave and he’s flashing that smile, the smile you see the beauty queen, or the president wearing. That fake smile that says ‘I will do well for you,’ but really they have no fucking clue what they are doing. That smile makes me want to puke.

“Ready.” I lie.

In the courtroom I could feel the tension. The focus in the judge's eyes, the exhaustion in the jurors faces, and the sweat running down the back of Dave’s neck while questioning Mary.

The room gets silent.

“She was only two years old, what possessed you to do this?” Dave asks Mary. A question I’ve been asking myself for some time now.

I’ll finally get my answer.

Mary is looking in front of her, at Dave. She’s sitting up tall. Hair in a bun, and wearing an ugly shade of brown jumpsuit. She starts to talk.

“I had reasons that made sense at the time. I know there was no justification for what I did. I just hated that it was constant crying with her. I just wanted some peace and quiet.” I hope those words tasted like vinegar coming out of her mouth.

Dave turns, he can’t look at her. He paisses the floor looking at his feet, beginning to speak, “and could you explain what really happened that night?”

She sighs, I can see her getting aggravated she has told the story 100 times before. She starts to talk, “it was bedtime, we had just finished up dinner. It was a cold night, I had noticed because usually my husband keeps the heat up. He wasn’t there that night, he had to work late. Cathy was crying up in her room. I was trying to watch my show I watch every night around 6pm. She just wouldn’t stop crying, so I rushed up to her room and screamed, “Why are you crying so much? I can’t stand it.” Then I started shaking her, picked her up and just let her slip from my figures. She hit her head on the corner of a little chair. When I realized what had happened I called 911 right away. I never did finish my show." she laughs , like this is all a joke.

I stopped paying any attention to what was going on. I couldn't listen to it anymore, first I was fiddling with my hands, then with my pen. The judge starts to speak and I get anxious, is it decided? Is this finally going to be over with? No.

The ride home was unbearable. Brian smelled up the whole car and I had to keep the window open so I wouldn't vomit. I keep thinking to myself, why the hell do they need more time? If I were them I would put her in jail for life for god sake. Why can't this just be over? I put my head on the window and I fall asleep. I'm so tired.

"Sue, wake up. We're home." he's shaking me, I open the car door and get out before he has any time to say anything more. I walk in and throw my coat on the table. I haven’t been able to look Brian in the eyes, he’s the reason this happened and he knows it. Our marriage is slipping, as if it wasn’t already.

He walks in, “Sue, we need to talk about this.”

I hate when he does this he needs to get a clue, I have had enough. I just take a deep breath and say, “When Mary is put away i’ll start talking, but for now i'm focusing on Cathy.” I start walking up to my room, he sleeps on the couch. Like he’s been doing since this all started.

Two days have gone by and they finally reach their verdict. The ride to the courtroom was long and for once I could finally look at Brian, I force a smile and say, “Today's the day.” He looks at me and smiles. I’m glad he didn’t say anything he always knew when I needed him to talk and when I didn’t.

When we got to the court room everyone looked at me like they felt sorry for me.

I know they didn’t, i’m the mom who let her 2-year-old daughter in a home with a pot smoker. I sit, he sits, I grab his hand and we wait.

It was from the excitement or the anxiety that made me black out. Next thing I know everyone is cheering and Mary is crying being taken away in handcuffs. I’m confused, “Dave, what happened?”

Dave smiles, “we won.”

Yet I didn’t cheer, I didn't give nor receive hugs. I just sat there, holding Brian's hand wondering… What now?




© Copyright 2020 EmmyLoren_. All rights reserved.

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