Friday, 18 July 2014

To Kill a Mockingbird - The Trial (written in 10th grade)

Atticus Finch

Atticus Finch (left) and Mayella Ewell (on the chair)

Note: Hey guys, this is a journal I wrote at school a couple of months ago. It's based off from the story and characters of To Kill A Mockingbird but the journal i have written is not part of the real story, but is my own. This is written in the point-of-view of Mayella Ewell :) For those who haven't read the book or seen the movie, she is a female character in the story. So far, all you need to know is that Mayella has framed a black man named Tom Robinson for sexually harassing her when in fact, it was the other way. Mayella was forced to lie by her father, Bob Ewell, who blackmails her into lying by physical abuse. Both suspects are being questioned by Atticus Finch, a lawyer, at a court for Tom Robinson's trial.

P.S This story is set back in the day when the whites did not accept the black community and they're always separated. So in other words, it was segregated. So a white person and black person being intimate was, although not a crime, but was considered shameful in the white society. For this reason, to avoid embarrassment, Mayella accuses Tom.

To Kill A Mockingbird - The Trial

Mayella's P.O.V
I don't know how long I've been staring at my hands, but I still couldn't believe today was the day; it was Tom Robinson's trial. I snapped my head towards the front of the court room as I hear my name being called. With hesitant and shaky steps, I walked towards the man holding the Bible. Placing my hand on the Bible, the man recites the oath in a fast pace while looking me in the eye. I nodded weakly in reply. I walked towards the chair in the front and as soon as i seated myself, the nerves kicked in with unimaginable force. I lightly touched my bruised eye only to stop when Mr. Finch cleared his throat as he stood up from his seat. The nerves consumed me faster this time and I was forced to look anywhere but him. When the questioning began, I felt hundreds of eyes observe my every move and body language. It felt as if their eyes could pierce through my soul and finally discover the ugly truth. I was bombarded with questions, after questions, after questions. Each one tearing out bits and pieces off of my sanity and self-control. 

Pools of tears threatened to escape from my eyes but i held them back with as much strength i could muster. I clasped my hands together to stop the shaking. Lies, after lies, after lies, poured out of my mouth and all I could feel was guilt; for committing the shameful sin of kissing a black man. Mr. Finch stood in front of me and I had realized that he was waiting patiently for me to answer one of his questions. As soon as i looked up for the first time, regret devoured me and finally, I couldn't take it any longer; i broke down into loud sobs with tears pooling down my face, right where i sat; in front of hundreds of eyes.

After the Trial

I stepped out of the court room with a relieved sigh but not relieved enough for the remaining negativity to disappear. Tom Robinson has been sentenced guilty, but why do i feel disappointed? I opposed his party after all. I noticed someone step out from the door only to realize that it was Mr. Finch. My breath hitched in my throat, expecting him to make a fool out of me for lying. Only, that never happened. "Good day, Miss Ewell. Take care on your may home now." He said politely, tipping his hat then walking away. 'Home', I thought. Home was waiting for me, but the thing is, I didn't want to go home. I have failed in keeping my emotions under control during the trial and something as simple as that, i failed miserably. Now, i had to suffer the wrath of my so-called father. Fear took over, and a hundred things of what revolting things he might do to punish me, formed in my head. Another man came out of the door and speak of the devil, it was the man himself; my father.

He looked down at me with such deadly and cold eyes that i was surprised daggers didn't shoot out from them. He raised his hand and a loud 'SMACK!' resounded in the air. My father had just slapped me, hard. I let out a cry of pain and noticed a few people, who had caught the shocking scene, stare with horror. My father dragged me back to the house by my hair, away from the spectators, and threw me in before slamming the door behind him. I cried loudly for the hundredth time today only to get a harder beating from my father. "You sad excuse of a daughter! You're an embarrassment to the family!" My father kept spitting curses at me and more were spat out after that. I got up swiftly and darted to my bedroom, slamming the door behind me. My legs gave out from under me and i slid down the door. More tears escaped as i blocked out the noise of my father pounding on my door.

While waiting for the banging to stop, i fell asleep in the process. When i opened my eyes again, it was dark outside. I rubbed my tired and puffy eyes and stood up, the weakness still lingering in my legs. Then, i heard a sound. Someone was banging on a door. No, not my door; the front door. I proceeded to cautiously walk out of my room only to find my father wasn't in the house anymore. Relief flooded me as i went to answer the door. It was the sheriff. "Miss Ewell! Your father. . .!" The sheriff panted loudly, "He. . .your father. . .HE'S DEAD!" I froze instantly after the news. Dead? Impossible! Loneliness consumed me. I'm alone. My father is dead. Without hearing the complete story from the Sheriff, i slammed the door in his face and locked it. I collapsed onto the floor. My. . .father is dead. Why. . .? How. . .? "Because of you..." the voice in my head whispered. My father is dead because of me. I hugged my knees and rocked back and forth; the voice getting louder by the second. The sanity i had left, now fading away.

"Fool. Shameful. Disgraceful. Disgusting." They kept on chanting, "Murderer...murderer..." Yes, i was a fool. I was a fool for kissing a black man. I was a disgrace for doing such a crime. Disgusting is what defines me. Moreover, shame is what's now consuming me whole. Shame on you, Mayella, shame on you. You're a fool and now. . .you're also a murderer. 

I laid there on the ground as crimson covered the floor, patiently waiting for the darkness to swallow me completely. And when it did, I welcomed it with open arms.

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