Poppy

Next to the square outline of the grey wall facing me was a box-like black device. I knew its code, but could not tap it. Once again I lunged at the wall, and was thrown back. The sky began to turn dark again. I had been trying to get through since they had dragged Wren away from the black wing, but for a reason unknown to me its barrier was sealed to me. I balled my fists and threw myself at the wall again, and bounced on the floor. With a scream of frustration, I pounded my fists on the wall.

The night fell and I was still throwing myself at the wall, waiting for it to give in and let me through. I had never been one to yield, not even when there was no hope. I did not sleep, I never did. Ghosts did not need any sleep, we were air and our energy was nonexistent and our muscles long decayed in our rotting corpse. We were air, and air could get through anything. A grunt burst out of my throat and I threw myself at the wall. My little niece needs me. A faint yellow ray began to creep upon the wall as I continued lunging at it. This went on, until the door opened.

First Nestor Krol appeared, and my mouth drew a tight line upon seeing him. I knew he was merely doing his job, but I could not help but to hate him at this point. Then a dark skinned girl with blond hair and high cheekbones appeared, Jasmin Girard, followed by the blue and black locks of Farren. I did not step aside as Nestor Krol walked through me, causing him to shiver. He tapped five times into the black device and stepped back. The wall lifted with a rumble, and I ran through it. Before I knew, I lied on my back on the harsh floor. I scrambled myself up and watched them disappear, and tried once again to go inside before the black wall thundered down.

When the wall lifted again, I did step back. As earlier, it was Nestor Krol who appeared first, and I wished he had never let me see past him. A heavy chain dangled between her hands, keeping together the thick metal clasped around her wrists. Her pale face had gotten a sickly grey glow. Wren stared straight ahead as she stumbled, with a dead and numb look in her silver eyes, shadowed by black circles. But she was alive. I blinked away my tears and smiled. Only one had come out alive from the cells before, and his name was whispered among our people like an ancient myth.

"Feel free to use our office," Nestor Krol said with one hand resting on the doorknob. "I'll send someone to bring medicine."

Jasmin watched the door slam shut and led Wren to the couch, and sat beside her. She reached into her shoulder bag and took out a thick and pale yellow file. "You may go, Farren."

Farren dropped on Nestor's chair. "I'm not going anywhere."

This made Jasmin look up with her eyebrow cocked. "I can't have you here. If you want me to do my job, you'll have to leave."

Before she closed the door, Farren asked Wren if she needed anything. Wren looked up and shook her head, and for a quick moment it seemed as if the deadness of her eyes disappeared. It was short lived, she hung her face again and stared ahead with blank eyes and I couldn't say for sure if it had ever been gone. The door closed again, and Jasmin went through Wren's every activity of that day, writing everything down on her clipboard. At what time Wren had woken up, where she had gone then, and after, and eventually where she had been at the time of the murder. With little energy in her voice, Wren answered each question on the same robotic tone.

"Where is Clyde Thorpe right now?"

Wren swallowed. "He said he'd be out of town for a few days."

Jasmin let out a deep breath and rubbed her eyebrow. "Clyde is crucial. He's your only alibi. Does he have a phone number?"

"He does. But I don't own a phone myself, so we couldn't exchange our phone numbers."

For a second, I wondered how on Earth those two had met, before I reminded myself there were more important things to think about. A trial did not mean the same thing as freedom, especially not with our justice system. Getting one was one thing, winning it was a whole other story. But Wren and Jasmin would win, I was sure of it. I frowned at the illusory thought. In truth, I had little hope, but that was something I'd never admit to myself. It was a bad ending I would never allow to play out.

"I'm not going to lie to you," Jasmin said. "That's really bad news, Wren. We need him to testify."

Wren nodded weakly. "He'll be back, don't worry."

Jasmin sighed. "I'll try to find a way to delay the trial, or stretch it a few days longer."

The door opened, and a fair haired girl dropped off a small, white paper bag and three large bottles of water and a stack of piled plastic cups. Jasmin rumbled through the bag's contains and, after reading each tag, placed some of it on the table. All the while, Wren gazed at nothing with a slanted head and the same dead eyes. It scared me, it seemed as if her soul had been taken away. Jasmin grabbed Wren's palm and placed the medicine she had approved of on it, one narrow yellow pill and one small and round white pill, and filled a cup with water for her.

Wren straightened, gulped down the pills and water without looking up, and returned to her slumping former position. I noticed she was shivering, and a drop of sweat rolled down her temple.

Jasmin tapped on her cellphone and narrowed her eyes. "We only have two hours until the trial starts. Let's get back to it."

With a sudden gasp, Wren looked up. "Spyro..."

"He's fine," Jasmin said. "I mean, considering the circumstances. The funeral is Friday."

"Does he..." Wren's voice broke off and she fixed her eyes on the floor again.

"He doesn't believe it's you. Well, he did at first, but then he found out about the bite marks and everything, so he knew it couldn't have been you." Jasmin swallowed and placed a hand on Wren's shivering shoulder. "I'm sorry you're in this mess, I really am."

The two hours went by too quick. Our walk to the courtroom was short, but the rattling noise of her chains and the dullness in her eyes made me wish it was much longer. Along the way, we were accompanied by whispers and curiosity and hatred of the supernaturals roaming around. A few spoke out loud, awful words that brought tears to my eyes. But Wren did not seem to hear it, her pale eyes remained looking straight ahead. We stepped up a staircase and walked to the end of another hall, and eventually through two doors. Inside, on our left and right a blended crowd of all species but the nymphs rose up from their stone benches to watch the two pass through. In the crowd I saw a lot of faces I recognized. I saw the grim faces of Frank and Farren, the sad looking green eyes of Cyril, and even Nestor Krol, cold as stone. In front of the audience stood two stone tables with wooden seats, and Jasmin and Wren took a seat behind the left table.

I kneeled down next to the zombie-like Wren, and whispered that she needed to remain strong and that everything would be okay. I glanced at the jury sitting in the right corner and counted twelve men and women. Some of them were vampires, some human, some witches, and only one a werewolf. Judging from their slouched statures, yawns, and dull faces, they seemed to want to be anywhere else but at this trial. On the table next to ours, sat Henry Fortier, his platinum locks slicked back, and Kaiser Porth, both dressed in a black suit and a tie. Seeing them was a lash to my heart, they've wanted the Watchers dead from the start.

An elderly man in a long black robe appeared, and Jasmin pulled Wren to her feet. After the judge had opened court, the first to testify was Wren. It was how the supernatural system worked all around the world, the accused one was the first to be questioned. Wren lowered her hands where nobody could see the chains and raised her chin high enough to show the little dignity she still had.

Henry Fortier was the first to rise up. With his hands on his back, he took slow steps and glanced at the jury several times. When he faced Wren, a quick smile flashed across his face. "On the night of the murder, where were you around ten and twelve pm?"

"I was at a bar with a friend, then I went home."

"Who's your friend?"

"Clyde Thorpe."

Henry threw his head back and pursed his lips. "And, where is that friend of yours now?"

"Objection," Jasmin shouted as she rose up. "The question is irrelevant. This trial is not about her friend."

The judge turned his face to Henry. "Are you going somewhere with this?"

"I am," Henry said with a smile. "I promise."

"Then get to the point," the judge said with a grunt. "Overruled."

Henry nodded, and faced Wren. "Nobody has seen you or him. How do we know he was not out of town when it happened?"

"People saw us at the bar. They can testify."

He hunched over the stone barrier between himself and Wren. "Which bar?"

"Don't know the name," Wren said with a frown. "Never looked at the name. We just went inside."

"Hmm." Henry threw a quick glance at the jury. "What did this bar look like?"

"It was eh..." Wren swallowed. "It had a red door and the interior had blue lights with white furniture."

"The Snoe?"

"I don't know. I just said I never looked at the name."

Henry nodded and began to pace around. "How many drinks did you had that night, Wren?"

"Two."

"Alcoholic drinks?"

"Cocktails."

"Where they alcoholic, yes or no?"

"Yes."

"And..." Henry smiled and winked. "Were you a little drunk?"

"No."

"Do you often drink alcohol?"

"No, it was my first time."

"Hmm." Henry frowned and rubbed his chin. "You are not accustomed to alcohol, but you've had two alcoholic drinks. If you're telling the truth about not being a drinker, two drinks must have had an effect on you. Surely you felt something?"

Wren shrugged. "Just a little lightheaded, but I wasn't drunk."

"You were under the influence of alcohol, and then you went and killed Ms. Winter."

"Objection," Jasmin said with one hand raised. "He's accusing her, not questioning her."

"Sustained."

Henry spread his arms and let his eyes slowly wander over the crowd on the benches. "Lightheaded, people. And a demon, might I add."

Jasmin slammed her fist on the table. "Objection."

"Sustained." The judge sighed and drummed his fingers on the wood. "Mr. Fortier, get a hold on yourself. You're only allowed to ask questions for now, save your speech for the end."

"Of course, your honor," he said with his hands cupped underneath his chin. "That will be all."

Jasmin was the next to rise up, and walked with long and confident strides to Henry's former spot. She narrowed her eyes at the jury, causing some of them to straighten their backs and break off their yawns. It surprised me that Jasmin was able to intimidate them, considering she was only twenty.

"Wren, do you have a criminal record?"

Wren shook her head. "No. I've never been in legal trouble."

"Have you ever been in a fight?"

"No."

"And, what was your relationship with Eliza Winter?"

"She was a friend to me. Kind, caring."

Jasmin spun around and briefly looked around, from the audience to the jury to the judge, and back to Wren. "So, you are not violent by nature and you did not have any reason to attack Ms. Winter. Am I correct?"

"Objection," Kaiser Porth said loudly as he leaped up. "We don't know what went down that night. She might have gotten into a fight, giving her a reason to attack."

The judge's face got a dark look, and for a long while he remained silent. "Overruled. Ms. Girard, please continue."

"Thank you, your honor," Jasmin said. "The victim was completely drained of blood, with two punctures in her neck. Do you have a pair of fangs, Wren?"

"No."

"Do you drink blood?"

"No."

"When you returned home, what did you do upon finding the body?"

Wren frowned and briefly looked down. "First I checked whether she was still alive. She was not. Then I tried to reanimate her by massaging her chest."

"Why not call for help?"

"I..." She shook her head and a tear fell down on her cheek. "I don't know. I wanted to save her. I couldn't really think straight."

Jasmin nodded. "You wanted her to live?"

"Yes," Wren said with a hoarse voice. "I... It was like a horrible dream. Unreal. I just wanted Ms. Winter to come back."

Jasmin gave the judge a small nod and turned around. "That will be all, your honor."

The judge asked the prosecutors, Henry and Kaiser, whether they had a witness, and from behind the audience a man was led forward. It was a short Asian man with little meat on his bones, and black hair and thin lips. He took a seat next to and below the judge.

Kaiser Porth stepped forward. I did not recognize their witness, and I wondered what value this man had in this trial.

"Mr. Yoko," Kaiser started, "you are the owner of a bar called The Snoe, am I correct?"

The man eagerly nodded. "Yes."

Kaiser turned away from the man and glanced around the hall. "And, how long have you been the owner?"

"Twenty-six years. My father was the owner before me, and his father before him, and his father before..."

"All right, we get it. Runs in the family," Kaiser interrupted him. A few in the crowd laughed, and were quickly joined by more. The judge slammed his gravel and asked for order, and the laughter died.

"Were you at the bar yesterday?"

"Yes, I sure was."

"Do you see every customer who comes and goes in your bar?"

"Yes," the little man said. "I personally welcome each customer, ask them if they're pleased with the service and need anything."

"So, there is no way you could've overlooked a customer coming to your bar?"

"No."

Kaiser Porth turned to our table and threw Wren a smile, and pointed. "Have you seen that girl sitting over there at your bar that night?"

"No," the man said, shaking his head. "Not that night nor any other night. I have never seen her in my..."

The chair underneath her bounced on the floor with a loud thump as Wren leaped up. "He's lying."

Jasmin pulled her down by her arm. "Wren, calm down."

"But he's lying," Wren said in a squeaky voice, her finger pointed at the witness. "I saw him and he saw me too, and we spoke."

The judge slammed his gravel on the wood. "Ms. Girard, control your client or she'll be thrown back into the cells."

Jasmin raised her hands. "My apologies, she's had a rough couple of days. Won't happen again, your honor."

Kaiser Porth threw Wren a sideward smile, and turned to his witness. "I ask again, Mr. Yoko, did you see that face in your bar that night?"

Mr. Yoko craned his neck and observed Wren carefully. "No, never seen her."

"Liar," Wren screamed at the top of her lungs. Hunched over the table, she tried to crawl over it, with Jasmin holding her back. "Liar, liar, liar."

The judge slammed his gravel and tried to speak, but could not get through Wren's loud voice. The crowd's whispers hovered through Wren's shouting. She no longer looked like a zombie, instead she looked manic and scary. Kaiser observed her with a big grin, his hands on his back, and Henry grinned too from behind his table, of all his smug grins this was the smuggest one by far.

"Wren..." Jasmin said as she pulled at her torso. "Wren, please."

Wren sat back down, but did not drop her voice. "He's lying."

"Ms. Girard," the judge roared. "I'm running out of patience here. Are you going to control your client or should we throw her back into the cells?"

"No need for that," Jasmin said with one hand raised. "She's calm, your honor."

"This is my final warning. I have no tolerance for such behavior." The judge paused and grimaced. "She should already be grateful for the chance of a fair trial, a chance very few get."

Jasmin swallowed and nodded. "Yes, your honor. She understands that very well."

The judge looked from Jasmin to Wren, and back, and sighed. "We will have a break, and continue in three hours."