The Trial

I murmured to myself as I woke up early on Monday, "Finally, after days of waiting, I can figure out how they found out." I had convinced myself that my plan had been flawless and the execution impeccable, so the revelation that someone had discovered our actions came as a shock.

Reluctantly, I rose from my warm bed and slogged to the bathroom where I brushed my teeth and took a long, contemplative shower. The hot water felt soothing, but it couldn't wash away the unease that plagued my mind.

After stepping out of the shower, I noticed my parents dressing up elegantly for the court. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt, knowing they had to take a leave from work just for me. The situation felt uncomfortable and awkward as my underage status necessitated their presence in the courtroom.

The thought of my carefully constructed identity potentially crumbling in front of my parents weighed heavily on my mind, especially considering I was already feeling the foundations begin to crumble due to being the only witness to the crime.

I went back to my room, my heart racing as I put on the suit I had bought from the local china shop for the purpose of drug deals, yet now I'm using it for legal reasons.

As I stepped out, my parents stared at me with a mix of surprise and concern.

"Since when do you have a suit, son?" My father asked, while my mother's expression turned stern. "My goodness, son, you look like a gangster!"

Trying to maintain composure, I responded, "I picked it up in the China shop for a cheap price... Just like you always say, Dad, 'A man must at least have one suit.'"

I then put on my expensive watch, purchased with money from my unlawful activities. It wasn't overly expensive, but the leather bands gave it a classy look. In the bathroom, I meticulously styled my hair with gel and dabbed on some classy fragrance, making me smell like a mature person.

As I looked at myself in the mirror, I couldn't help but think that I was starting adopting the fashion sense of the mafia.

I finished my preparation by putting on shoes and then, with my parents standing by my side, both supportive and concerned, we stepped out of the house and into the car.

With my father at the wheel, the engine roared to life as we began our journey towards the courtroom. The anticipation weighed heavily on each passing minute as we made our way through the roads and landscapes, heading towards the heart of Slovenia's capital city, Ljubljana, where Eman's trial had been assigned.

Stepping out of the parked car, I stared at the imposing yet beautiful building. Inside, we were quickly escorted to the courtroom, finding seats in the public gallery. (The seat that spectators sit on.)

The courtroom was bustling with many people, with most sitting in the gallery. My parents and I took a seat and once settled, I started analyzing each individual present, My eyes quickly moved around the room and then suddenly they stopped laser focused on one individual.

"Lenart, why are you here!!" I screamed internally.

Lenart, in his wheelchair, fixated a gaze filled with intense hatred upon Eman. (If you don't remember who Lenart is read chapter 8, 9 and 10)

Before the trial commenced, I rose from my seat, leaving my parents behind, and approached Lenart with a broad smile on my face. "Hello, Lenart," I greeted him warmly, waving my hand.

Oh, Dionis! It's been quite a while!" Lenart responded with enthusiasm.

"Hahaha, yes, it has been a long time... You're looking healthier," I remarked with a smile.

"Yes, I'm slowly recovering. Maybe in a couple of years, I'll be able to walk again."

"That's fantastic news, man!"

"Thank you, thank you. I hope this bastard gets the punishment he deserves today."

"He will, don't worry about it. Well, it seems the trial is about to start. Have a great day, Lenart," I said before leaving him and rejoining my parents.

Eman, accompanied by a public lawyer appointed by the country, sat at the dock. It was evident that his family's financial situation prevented them from affording a lawyer, even though Eman himself could likely afford one. However, he cannot spend the money due to gaining it in an unjust way.

The downside of our situation was our inability to use our hard-earned money wisely. We often found ourselves spending it on trivial things like branded clothes, consoles, and the like.

After some minute the judge, an older man with a stern expression, finally took his place and called for silence with a resounding slam of his hammer.

From where I sat, I could see his parents sobbing and Eman looking visibly nervous. I hoped he wouldn't reveal the truth.

"Ahem, silence!" The judge slammed his hammer.

The spectator behind all went quiet.

The judge began reading the papers before him, then looked up and addressed Eman, "Mr. Eman, you are suspected of robbery and assault, am I correct?"

"Yes, sir!" Eman replied, but the judge quickly corrected him, "It's 'Yes, Your Honor.'"

The judge then looked at his papers and worded his opinion. "Hmm from reviewing the police report, it seems this court case is not necessary."

Eman's lawyer then spoke up, trying to defend his client. "Your Honor, there is no concrete proof of Mr. Eman committing these crimes."

The judge wasn't easily swayed. "The police discovered unknown saliva from the victim's clothes and hair strands at the crime scene. Upon processing the saliva and hair, they were able to pinpoint Mr. Eman's involvement. His involvement is almost certain, but it's doubtful he acted alone. Furthermore, another unidentified footprint was found at the scene, but unfortunately, it couldn't be traced back to anyone."

Hearing those words from the judge sent a chill down my spine. I hadn't fully considered the consequences of my actions, and I certainly didn't expect the police to conduct such a thorough investigation, even analyzing saliva, hair, and footprints.

I underestimated the seriousness of the crime, not realizing that in a place like Trbovlje, where the crime rate is very low, any wrongdoing, no matter how small it may seem, would trigger a massive investigation.

Leaving a person permanently disabled is indeed a grave offense, and at that moment I understood that my perspective was skewed and normalized inappropriately. It's astonishing to think that they even checked for footprints, which further emphasizes the level of investigation in this case. I deeply regretted my actions and lack of foresight.

"I was a fool! Now they also know someone else was there!" I thought to myself, clutching my head with both hands.

As the court proceedings continued, my anxiety intensified with each passing moment. I was mentioned a couple of times and even needed to confirm some details regarding Eman's involvement.

After an hour of tense proceedings in the courtroom, the judge seemed close to reaching a verdict, and it was becoming increasingly evident to everyone present that Eman was fucked. Just as Eman was about to break and confess, I found myself staring at the floor, desperately searching for a way to resolve the situation.

Suddenly, an idea struck me, and my eyes widened as a wide grin spread across my face. Without hesitation, I stood up from my seat and declared loudly, "I did it! I was the one who attacked Lenart and stole his money!!"