You're Free
By Burgundie Johnson
"He hit me. I'm too strong for this kind of situation." I thought this with fear in my heart as I laid on my back waiting for his next
move. As he turned his head to see if anyone was coming, I rolled to the left, jumped up and slipped under his arms and ran to the
kitchen. I scrambled through the drawers searching for the biggest and sharpest knife. Lucky for me I found two. I quickly grabbed
one in each hand and gripped them tight, holding the blades facing my body so when I ran toward him all of the force from each
swing will stab and pierce him deep. He must have heard the sound of the knives as I took them out of the drawer because when I
slowly walked in the hallway and peeked in the room where he was, I saw he had already started out the door and toward the back
gate. He looked back at me and I shook my head from left to right as to tell him "No, no, no, you can't get away that easy." He took
one step forward and that was my signal. I began to run with the longest strides, one leg in front of the other, each arm swinging up
and down gripping tight each knife. As I got closer I did a short leap off my right foot so the weight of my body could force the knife
in my left hand deep into his back. As I held on tight to the knife I pulled my right arm up and pushed my right hand holding the knife
forcing it deep into his back. The knife went in with ease, finding a space right under the shoulder blade and the other above the upper
rib. With both knives lodged in his back he fell to his knees and let out a large grunt. With both hands I grabbed one of the knives and
with all of my pain and anger I forced the knife into the back of his neck. After I saw he was down for good, I got up and without
thinking I gathered a wad of spit in my mouth and spit in his face. Was he dead? I don't know. Did I want him dead? At the time I did.
I looked at my lawyer and then down at my fingers and asked, "Is it wrong for me to feel this way?" he looked at me and said, "Wait, I
don't recall you ever saying you stabbed him again in the neck and then spit in his face." He started looking through the medical
records looking for evidence for the knife wound to the neck. I looked a little confused with his answer but then realized he wasn't
answering my question but actually taking a mental note of what I just told him. He stood up and got real close to my face and said,
"Who else knows about this?"  I leaned forward and whispered, "No one. Oh, the medical examiner but he won't say anything because
I took care of him, if you know what I mean wink, wink. Look, I just thought you should know just in case. I thought it would benefit
me and my case if my lawyer knew the entire truth." He looked at me, smiled nervously and said with a sarcastic tone, "Well, maybe
you should have told me this before we went to trial. Oh and maybe it would have helped if you would have told me before the jury
went to decide your fate." I could see he was getting upset because his ears were turning bright red and he began to whisper and look
around. "I'm fighting for a not guilty verdict and you tell me you're guilty!" By now he looks as though he's ready to reach over and
strangle me. I whispered very strongly, "I'm not guilty!" He said, "You just told me you killed your husband and spit in his face!" I
calmly told him, "I told you I killed my husband before you agreed to take my case, I just didn't give you the full explanation why I
killed him. I told you I killed him because he hit me." With eyes of fire he said, "Well isn't that the reason you killed him, out of self
defense?" "Maybe I left out a few minor details like, he hit me yes, but he only hit me because I was sitting on a pillow, while it
happened to be on his face, while he was sleeping. I killed him because I wanted to see him dead. I couldn't stand his constant
breathing in and out, always either through his nose or through his mouth." He looked shocked and said under his breath, "God
forgive me." Suddenly there was a knock on the door. It was the bailiff telling us the verdict is in. I looked up at my lawyer and gave
an evil grin. I knew exactly what he was thinking. As I stood up and turned I put my head down so I could change characters. I walked
out the room and through the courtroom doors. I sat in my chair with a distraught look. As the foreman read the verdict I squeezed
my lawyer's hand. "NOT GUILTY" he read. I had a number of different charges but all I could hear is not guilty on all counts. The
judge told everyone to be quite because there was a lot of screams and awes and she slammed her gavel and said, "Attention, quiet in
my courtroom." She looked over to me and said, "I truly am sorry for your terrible ordeal and I wish you luck on your future." I
smiled with tears falling from each eye and softly said, "Thank you so much." She ordered me to continue counseling for domestic
violence.
As I stood up his family began to scream at me calling me a murderer. I turned to them, smiled and mouthed softly with evil intent,
"Vicious, vicious, words." I gave them a glare and his mother began to scream different prayers, calling me a demon from hell. His
sister yelled, "I'm going to kill you, you fucking bitch. You killed my brother!" I looked at my lawyer and said, "Did you hear what she
said? I love self defense." He asked the bailiff to clear the courtroom so I may leave. After everyone left he walked me to my car,
gave me a hug and grabbed me by the back of my neck with both hands and looked me in the eye and whispered with tears in his
eyes, "You're free, you fu