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Trail Paper- to Kill a Mocking Bird

Essay by   •  January 9, 2011  •  Essay  •  1,545 Words (7 Pages)  •  1,539 Views

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I can only say that no one person has felt my pain, frustration and fear. The moment I walked into that courtroom I was dead. Mr. Finch has done his job and that is it, nothing else can be said. Now as I sit here and listen his words only go in and out, in and out like the line of a fair ride. All I can do is think, think of what it was like to sit in a room knowing my fate.......

When I walked into that room I could hear every word said. It was like a school room, nothing but talk and talk and more talk. I could feel the eyes of a foreign body examining my every curve, not missing a wrinkle or bump. Even when I set down I could feel eyes and the feeling only got worse. To think that I would end up in a courtroom of all places and worse of all be the one sitting in a chair that I thought that I would only see, that is the chair of the man who is lucky enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Even though I wanted to hear what was to be said I knew it would only be lies, that was the real reason everyone was here. Lies created the trial and the only truth will come from me. Why tell a lye before you see god? It is no use, if you are going to die you might as well bear it all because in my case the results are all the same. I can only blink out and stay true. " Mayella Ewell"

I looked up and it was only what I could have imaged, tears and confusion. It would have been nice to know that the girl was so lonely and desperate, is there not a white man in this town that would take her. Why me? What did I do to get this sort of attention?

Like a mad dog, it was easy to see that she was lying. But that did not matter, all that mattered is that a black man raped a white woman. What was the point of even sitting in the courtroom, I knew the outcome and so did everyone else. There is no chance of freedom or even a chance to live to the age of 92 like my grandfather, which has always been my greatest goal. All this was unnecessary and useless. That is a fact it is all useless, why didn't they just kill me on spot and call it a day, it would only be one more colored boy dead.

Hearing my name made my heart drop. I walked up to the stand and told myself that even though it would do no go that I was going to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth, that is just what I did. To say that it was easy would be a under statement, in truth it wasn't. It is a position that I would dare not put anyone in. To see so many eyes is like being a fly trapped in the web of a spider. To have outsiders staring at you without flaw is a feeling that will hunt me even in my grave.

As I was asked to tell what had happened that day, my heart jumped again and it was as if my heart was to rip through my skin and fall to the ground. For a brief second I stared at the ground waiting to see my heart beating in front of me, that is the truth.

Even though I stood my ground and told what happened as I saw the look upon Mr. Finch's face I could see hope and to see hope in his eyes was a big eye opener. Something had been made clear to Mr. Finch because he looked like my mama had always looked when I lied, like something had went wrong.

To say that it was a big relief wouldn't be correct because I knew that there was no stopping the case for ending with a death. Only one person is going to be affected by this and that is Helen. In this world no one takes the time to think of what a man has accomplished, that is to say that he might have a house to care for and a wife and children to love. That is truth.

It is funny to me that I had to be a the one walking by that house and that I was the one she decided to approach, not someone else. But when you look at it I should have known that as soon as I when through that door I was in trouble. As soon that she asked me to go inside I should have turned around and that's just it, I should have turned around right then and there. The only question is why didn't I turn around.

The hardest part isn't the fact that I didn't turn around when I should, it was the wait. I can remember that every time I went in the past it would only take almost seconds but this time the seconds went to minutes and it felt like the minutes turned into hours. Maybe Mr. Finch is right maybe just maybe I have a chance. But do I really have a chance, ( pause), do I really have a chance even though the jury was all white and the only

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