Family First.

• Joanna Alfonso, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2014

My footsteps echo in the empty hallway as I impatiently pace back and forth. I hate these shoes. I hate anything with heels higher than an inch, but my lawyer seemed to think it was a good idea, along with the the outfit that made me feel miles away from my comfort zone. It made me look “mature and sophisticated” he’d said, two things I'm not, but I needed to sell my image.
Being the only eye witness for a murder trial that isn’t suspected of killing, I have the power to prosecute, whether they be guilty or innocent, or at least that’s what I’ve been told. No other evidence back up either theory, so my story and accounts of that night are the key to this case. Talk about “no pressure”.
The life I lived before the occurrences of that night is what I hold on to, the only thing I can hold on to, to keep myself sane. Though I know holding on to them won’t bring them back, there’s no harm in reminiscing, right? The juxtaposition of events that led up to the moment I lost the only friend in my life went by unnoticed, a blur now in my mind. It takes every ounce of strength I have in me not to break at any moment. As strong as I want to be, I can't always keep up the facade.
Facing the court isn’t the hard part, wearing THIS outfit is far from it, it’s who i’m speaking for, or, if i choose to, against. I’m still mourning the loss of my best friend, I haven’t even gone past the first stage of grief for crying out loud. And now, I have to decide whether or not my brother should go to jail, the brother that raised me. I know who’s guilty, but I wish I didn’t. It was an accident. I know that. Though, the moment I let my brother be sucked into this the authorities will be all over him and dig up his past, unravelling all the other crimes he’s committed antecedent to his sobriety. It won’t take them too long to connect the dots, and I know that he isn’t the same person anymore.
On the other hand, if I choose to lie and protect my brother, I’ll be sentencing an innocent man to at least 20 years in prison for third degree murder because he can’t remember what he did that night in all his drunken glory.
Before my father died he’d made my brother and I promise over and over again how family comes before anything else in the world.
As I was called into the courtroom and made my way down the aisle to my seat, then later on called to speak, I knew what my decision was. After the oath was pledged, my voice reacted faster than my mind and body. He kept his promise, so I won't break mine. "I do", I swore, knowing that i wouldn't.