23.9.11

Casey Anthony and Her Weird Powers Over Me

Yes, I'm talking about this Casey Anthony.

(c) Getty Images
Anyways, if you follow me on tumblr, about a week ago, you might have seen a post with a picture of her coming out of jail and the caption reading "I get to do my research project on her. This ought to be fun." Or something along those lines...
Well, we started our research projects in English this week (it's all to do about perceived heroes and villains) and I've been immersed in Casey Anthony tidbits. Anyways, doing all this research got me thinking. How on earth will she adjust to living as a free woman, but hated by virtually all of America?
So...
I'm writing a book.....
Well, not yet, but I probably will after I finish The Assassin. It's not about Casey Anthony's trial, I made my own trial up, but it's about a girl who's on trial for murder in the first degree, and her trial has become a national event.
I have no pitch, no synopsis, and I might change the MC's name. But, this is something new for me, it's in present tense. I wrote a little teaser, so, if you want to read it, let me know what you think. 
They walk back, silent as can be. None of them look at me; I know they aren’t supposed to. They’re robots, controlled by a duty and nothing else. It’s been less than a day since they left; since they were sent to make a decision. It was too soon. It was too soon. They believe the man across the room. He almost has a smirk on his face.
            But I… I’m shaking. My knuckles are white because I’m gripping the seat so hard. My whole body is shaking; I wonder if they can see my fear, I’m sure if they look hard enough, they can.
            They shouldn’t even have to look. They should know how I feel like I may collapse. I don’t know if I’ll be able to stand in a moment when I’m asked to.
            “Has the jury reached it’s verdict?” Judge Smith asks. His name fits him well. Just average. He’s balding at the top of his head, and he’s small. He probably likes to sit up there just to make himself feel more important than he really is.
            The jury foreman, ironically a woman, stands up and walks to the microphone. “Yes, your honor, the jury has reached a verdict.”
            The judge goes on about how the verdict needs to be unanimous and asks questions about all the jurors agreeing. For a moment, it’s like I’m not eve here. I can close my eyes and picture myself on the beach, the warm sand under my toes. But, I know I will never feel the sand again.
            “I ask the defendant and consul to stand.”
            For a moment, there’s total silence in the room while everyone’s eyes turn and look.
            “We the jury find Jennifer Marie Webb not guilty on the count of first degree murder.”
            Not guilty?

2 Comments:

Paige said...

This is ironic, because literally 30 minutes ago I read a story about her in the newest issue of People Magazine. This sounds really interesting! Great job! I'd love to read it!

Bianca McCray said...

I am kind of obsessed with her too. I think your idea is amazing too, I would definitely read it! :D

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