Beverly sat still in court, eyes downcast, hands in lap, nerves outstretched. Here she was, having to face him, Robert Wright, persuaded by friends, family, the police and lawyers (of course), that it was the right thing to do; for who exactly was never clear. As her lawyer approached, she could feel her heart contracting, getting smaller and tighter by the second and her legs itched to move, to run. She should have said no.
“Miss Langstone, I know this is very difficult for you, but can you confirm for the court that the defendant is the man who kidnapped you, placed you in a box and …”. She looked up before he could continue.
”Yes” she whispered “that’s him”. She glanced quickly up to her right and felt her insides lurch. All she really wanted to do was scream, but her voice was throttled by the pain of seeing him again.
“Miss Langstone, if you feel up to it, can you tell the court in your own words what happened on the night of the 16th June 2006?” She looked into his kind encouraging eyes and took a deep breath.
“I was walking home from school, it was raining and he…he…I mean the defendant, stopped his car and offered me a lift. I said no as Mum had always told me to beware of strangers”. She glanced at her mother who she could see was trying hard to stop tears cascading down her face.
“The next thing I remember was waking up in a ….in a….”. Why had she agreed to this? She didn’t want to explain to these eager-looking strangers what a monster he was, how he’d grabbed her, stuffed her in the boot of his car and put her in a home made coffin in his basement. She just couldn’t find the words to describe the smell of sweat and beer and and her unspeakable fear when the box was opened.
She opened her mouth, hoping the words would come and promptly threw up.
Categories: Just Stories