Vanity. Ares

making some allusion to whether I had tried to
sleep with her, but I don’t recollect much of
what was said after that. I think I zoned out
completey, as if I were already locked up, feeling
strange to be sat in the court without some sort
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
of imprisonment; of a small room or hand cuff’s.
Soon, I watched Maria climb down after what I
thought was a perfectly excellent scene, putting
me in a better light, I hoped anyway. A stellar
performance. She swayed back to her seat. The
last witness that day was Mr Olatende,
surprisingly. I had noticed him at the back of the
court near to Connor’s journalist friend, about
halfway through the trial that day when I peered
at the clock on the wall and thought that the
clock ticked a melancholic tock. Plus, I
remember his shirt being immaculately white,
and as white as the shirts that he would wear
when he would force myself, Cecil and Estelle to
go to Church. I did not know what to expect
from his witness testimony before he had begun,
unlike Brandy and Gordot; whose calls to the
witness stand I knew would work against me —
they had probably written scripts. I mused of
what Mr Olatende would say about me.
Upon being asked Mr Olatende explained
that I had lived with him when I was fifteen,
until seventeen. “He was a decent little kid,” he
added when Cesare asked what he thought of
me. I thought things were perhaps moving into
the light, until Cesare asked why I left. Mr
Olatende actually stuttered and seemed to be
unprepared for the question, due to this. “Well,
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