Write about anything you’d like, but make sure the post includes this sentence:“I thought we’d never come back from that one.”
As a reporter I had to attend to a trial against two dangerous felons in the old court-house of my city. Both had been convicted of murder but they had pending a cause for robbery with violence. There were almost no public in the trial, just family and friends of the convicts, another journalist and me.
While we were waiting to the beginning of the trial at the door of the courtroom, the family and friends began to insult us and threaten us as if we were guilty of the accusation against the defendants. The situation was no pleasant.
The courtroom was one of the worst of the building. It had no windows. There were three or four row of benches for the public and no microphones. The other journalist and I went to the first row, very close to the bench where sat the felons, guarded by two policemen, to be able to hear and see everything.
The judge, who had had a car accident and was in a wheelchair, opened the session.
It was winter, the building had a lousy heating, so people who worked there, had electric heaters. Plus, the building was constantly under repair. When the trial began, we heard the sound of a drill and suddenly the lights went off. The fuses of the old building didn’t resist.
In the courtroom without windows, the dark was complete. I heard noises from the bench in front of me where the felons and the policemen were. Then, the Judge’s voice saying: “somebody, open the door”. But nobody was moving except the felons and the police. One of the policemen had a lighter and used it to watch the prisoners. At last was the same judge with his wheelchair who went to the door and opened it. A little light entered the room and we waited till somebody fixed the fuses and the lights went on.
I noticed how the two felons were looking at the rear door of the courtroom, like measuring distances. I was scared. I was just behind them in their way towards the door. I knew they already had tried to flee with hostages from a courtroom a year before.
The trial resumed and fifteen minutes later we heard the drill again and the lights went of once more. Absolute dark. More noises. Fear. I thought we’d never come back from that one.
The Judge went again with his wheelchair to open the door and he ordered to stop the drilling. He was furious.
The lights went on again and the trial resumed. I was uneasy. I was sure that if we had another blackout, they would attempt to flee. But luckily that didn’t happen.
Now we have a new court-house and stories like this one are not possible any more.
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