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My arm healed surprisingly quickly for the wound that Luther had inflicted. With the force and velocity behind his thrust, it was meant to kill someone. Even if that someone wasn't me. The blade had torn through my muscles and shattered the surrounding bone. It went all the way through my shoulder and had just nicked Nate's chest.

As scheduled, I left the hospital on Wednesday evening, my heart heavy in my chest. I had so many feelings that were built up inside of me. I didn't realize that they had been hidden in my heart until I had learned of Luther's arrest. My heart sort of sunk when I heard it. I don't know why, but I had secretly hoped that he would some how make another one of his great escapes and come back for me. Because, deep inside, I knew that if he had escaped, it would've been inevitable.

And Gomez. If I was going to get justice and put Luther away, I wanted it all. I wanted every last bit of justice that I could squeeze out of the court trial. And it angered me that Gomez didn't stick around to face his consequences. I would've never been kidnapped if it wasn't for him. Luther never would've been suspected if it wasn't for him. If he had just stayed out of the way, Luther and I would've worked things out on our own. At least, that's what I wanted to think.

It was a strange sensation, feeling a certain, non-hateful way towards a cold blooded killer like Luther. Almost as though I was a killer my self. For there was no excuse for what he did. He had no reason, no explanation for killing any of the people that he did. Yet, I still felt pity for him. It was like he wasn't even human. In fact, he was the ultimate culmination of human sin. An extraterrestrial. And I was drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

And I had no excuses for my feelings either. I was absolutely certain of how I felt about him.

I was in love with him.

And I hated myself for it. How anyone could've loved anything so twisted, so writhen, so (forgive me) fucked up beyond repair, is beyond me. But there was positively no doubt. I loved the pitiful creature.

Over the course of the next day while being bed-stricken, I finished reading Outlawry. How did it end, one may ask? Well, exactly how you might predict my story would end. The mobster got caught in some odious act, trying to proclaim his love for the unrequited love interest, and was sent to prison. The End. Pretty dull ending, wouldn't you say?

Yes, it is. To think, that this entire, incredible journey that Luther had taken me on would be ended abruptly by his sentence, makes me want to go wild. I thought that he was finally getting better. Once we returned from the ghetto, I thought that he had finally had an epiphany. But then he went and killed Sam. And tried to kill Nate. I would've been willing to give him a second chance, maybe even a third, if he deserved it. But even for him, he totally crossed the line. Even though my feelings for him were there without a doubt, I still dreaded when I would have to see him in court.

But, just like any day, Friday came just as quickly as any other.

Friday morning was a tedious, grey morning, full of November gloom and my emotions reflecting in the weather. Mother had awoken me early in the morning to help me get dressed for the trial. I wore a plain, black dress suit jacket and a pencil skirt, my arm sling hanging out of one side of my jacket. I hadn't thought of it until then, but the week prior, Luther had gotten shot in the shoulder. And that meant that we would be both wearing arm slings around our shoulder's. We would be matching. I smirked a little at the thought, but immediately snapped out of it when I realized how absurd it was.

Mom made me breakfast, so we went downstairs to eat together. Uncle Michael joined us as well.

"Hey, Uncle Mike?" I asked.

"Yeah, kiddo?" he replied.

I played with the scrambled eggs on my plate with the crooked fork that mom had given me. "Um...shouldn't I have a lawyer or something? I mean, this is my trial, right?"

My mother leaned against the other side of the counter and faced me. "Um, honey, since Luther is being convicted of so many crimes, there isn't just one plaintiff. He also admitted he was guilty of his crimes."

"So, what are you saying?" I asked, confused and angered. "Are you telling me that this isn't my case?"

"Well...in a way..." she said, wincing. "This is just the system's way of getting the full scoop of everything that had happened. Once they figure that out, then they can thoroughly figure out his sentence."

I bowed my head. "This isn't even my case." I brought it back up and looked out the window. "I should've figured as much. I had a feeling I was still going to be completely unsatisfied."

"Ssshhh, don't talk like that, baby. Luther hurt a lot of people," my mother comforted, rubbing my hand. "You'll get the justice that you deserve along with all of the rest of the people who's lives he's touched. Harmed, is a better word for it."

I smiled weakly at her. "Okay," I said. "I'm still not happy about it."

"That's alright," Uncle Michael said, patting me on the back. "I'll tell you what. After the trial today, I will take you anywhere you wanna go. My treat."

I chuckled. "You guys really need to stop spoiling me."

My mom pinched my cheek. "But we love to."

After finishing up our breakfast, we made our way to the courthouse. A secretary led us to the courtroom that the trial was going to take place in. It was already jammed packed. There were several families of victims sitting amongst audience members, some sobbing, some just staring blankly into space. The jury was seated on the side of the room, all whispering amongst themselves. I looked to where the defendant was supposed to sit. No one was there yet. I breathed a sigh of relief and anticipation. I was so nervous to see him.

"Ava," a warm, fuzzy voice said to me. Any feelings of fear or anxiety I had, suddenly washed away and my heart was wrapped inside of a cozy blanket. I turned around and sighed as I smiled. "You're kind of late."

"Oh hush, Nathaniel," I teased. He chuckled and walked up to me to hug me gently, minding my shoulder.

"If you four will please sit up front here," the secretary said as she directed us up to the front row of seats inside the audience. We all sat down and made ourselves comfortable in the hard, wooden seats. I silently thanked the Lord for seating us as far away from the defendant's seat as possible. I didn't want his stare to poison my thoughts more than they already had.

The doors from across the room suddenly opened up wide and loud. I whipped my head to the left and looked on to the scene. It was him. It was Luther. He was wearing a bright, orange jumpsuit, and had his hands cuffed behind his back. He was being escorted in by several policemen who bore guns and those sticks that they use to beat people with. I shuddered at the thought of the sort of struggle he must've put up, and how badly they may have beaten him.

No sooner had he entered did our eyes meet. It was a truly intoxicating moment. His hallow, empty eyes stared at mine from across the room, and in a sense, he almost seemed dead to me. All of the love that I had built up for him suddenly flooded from my body and was replaced by a sudden loathing. He was Luther White the Serial Killer. And I was going to lock him up.

He sat down at the table, next to his attorney, all the while never breaking eye contact with me until a guard came and stood in the line of our gaze.

The judge came in. A female judge, with black hair and darkish skin. She looked like Sandra Bullock, but a bit older than her. She didn't look very happy either. Letting out a sigh, she opened up the file that an officer had given to her and slipped on her reading glasses.

"All rise," she said. Everyone stood up. "Will the victims and the accused please raise their right hands?" Several people around the room all raised their hands, Luther included. Once Nate did it, I put my hand up as well. "I swear to tell only the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

"Yes, your honor," the court repeated back to her. She nodded nonchalantly. "You may be seated."

And so began the long, long day of the trial.

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