Mitigating Circumstances （n.） – Liam
MITIGATING CIRCUMSTANCES (N.):
CONDITIONS OR HAPPENINGS WHICH DO NOT EXCUSE OR JUSTIFY CRIMINAL CONDUCT, BUT ARE CONSIDERED OUT OF MERCY OR FAIRNESS IN DECIDING THE DEGREE OF THE OFFENSE.
LIAM
The following Friday
“I’m a sovereign citizen!” My first defendant of the day yelled as soon as I stepped into the courtroom. “The rules of this nation do not apply to me!”
Right… “Mara, what case is this, so I can get him the hell out of here?”
“Case 45676,” she said. “State of New York versus Calvin Blueford. Two counts of trespassing of private property and disorderly conduct.”
“All this land is my land!” He yelled. “I can’t be charged with trespassing anywhere.”
“Any word from the state on this?” I ignored him.
“These are basic misdemeanors, Your Honor,” the prosecutor said. “Fees, a trespass order, and court costs.”
“Sold.” I banged my gavel. “Next case.”
“Case number 45689.” Olivia’s voice made me do a double take. “The State of New York versus Nathaniel Garrison.”
She handed me the file and I shot Mara a confused look.
“She’s practicing.” Mara mouthed.
I made a mental note to make sure that she gave me advance notice next time—especially if Olivia was wearing a dress that clung to her curves like that…
I watched her return to the side table and couldn’t help but notice other men in the gallery watching her, too.
Why didn’t I notice her wearing that in the car this morning?
“Mr. Garrison,” I said, returning to business, “is there any reason why you were going sixty miles an hour when the speed limit was thirty?”
“No good reason, sir.” He looked genuine. “I was rushing to get to my job so I wouldn’t be late.”
“Did getting pulled over for this ticket make you late?”
“No, sir,” he said. “I got there with three minutes to spare.”
“Hmmm.” I looked at the prosecutor. “Recommendation?”
“Court costs and the fees, sir.”
“That’s not good enough.” I shook my head. “Mr. Garrison, you could’ve killed someone. You were three blocks away from a school zone.”
“I’m very sorry, sir.”
“Save your fake sympathy.” My eyes clouded over, and ugly memories played in my mind. “Dead people can’t hear apologies.”
“But I…” He paled. “I didn’t kill anyone.”
“But you could’ve,” I said. “And then I’d have to debate whether to keep you behind bars or grant you a high bail.”
“Sir, I—”
“Don’t interrupt me.” I clicked my pen. “Never interrupt me.”
The courtroom fell eerily silent, but the memories in my head became louder.
There was blood on the street, dead bodies strewn on the pavement, and the sick scent of death hanging in the air.
“Your car will be fitted with a speed limiting device for the next ninety days,” I said once my vision cleared.
“You’ll pay all court costs and fines, and you’ll be forced to submit to random drug testing for twelve months, as I refuse to believe you were sober.
If you fail to adhere to any of this, you’ll serve sixty days at Rikers Island Jail. ”
There was a collective gasp in the courtroom, but I ignored it.
As usual.
“Next case!”