I was sitting during an ongoing trial, while I watched my brother's best friend David, being questioned by Marisa Anderson, my not so called friend. She was asking so many questions, and David was answering them the best he can. He looked scared, he looked like he was hiding something.

But the only way to find out was to let God do the job. I have always grown up in a Christian home. My parents, my brother Jacob Morgan, and I always went to church every single Sunday morning. Mom would make a great homemade meal after church was over. I remember she would make the best meatloaf and mashed potatoes.

Mom loved me, Jacob and our father. She always had me to take care of Jacob when my mother and father would sometimes get drunk. I never really understood why. I guess it was because I was misunderstood.

When I would pray at night, asking God to answer my prayers, I would just think and say, will he really hear me from afar? I understand that I grew up in a church, read the Bible, and sang worship songs.But until one day, mom and dad were sentenced to life.

I was fifteen years old when all of this happened. Jacob was ten. I overheard David, as Meiissa was telling him to tell her what happened after Jacob had an argument with one of his other classmates. He got silent. "Mr. Jared, please answer the question," Judge Judith said.

I continued to shake my leg, while biting my fingernails. I was feeling nervous. But isn't Jacob looking nervous as well? I noticed he was swearing, when all I knew was that God would give Jacob justice.