No Choice

Sitting in a courtroom that was deathly silent. I was just one row behind the Prosecutors table. The judge had called all concerned parties back into the courtroom. The jury was supposed to have reached a verdict. My stomach was twisted in knots. I didn't look across from me where some members of my family were sitting in the gallery. I could feel the icy stares piercing my skin. Moments seemed like hours as the clock on the wall ticked away the seconds. The hushed silence in the courtroom was broken by the bailiff entering and signaling the judge that the jury was ready to enter. The judge motioned to the court officers and the 12 anonymous people who were about to render a verdict came in and took their seats. Five women, and seven men of varying ages, races and socioeconomic backgrounds, a jury of the defendants peers. As the Jury got situated in their seats, the judge addressed the foreman, a older retired man with a thinning hair line. The words from the judges bench rang in my ears like an iron bell. I could feel that the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife! The foreman responded to the judges query, we have reached a verdict your honor. The foreman passed the slip of paper to the bailiff who then took it to the judge. I was crumbling under the weight of the whole situation. The judge looked at the paper and then handed it back to the bailiff who returned it to the jury foreman. The judge then looked at the defense table and told the defendant to please rise and face the jury. As I looked at the defendant, I could see the coldness in his eyes. He looked past me towards the jury box. The foreman cleared his throat and spoke without any emotion. On count one murder in the 2nd degree we the jury find the defendant not guilty. You could feel a ripple of emotion run through the courtroom. I sank further down into my seat and hoped it would be over soon. On count 2 voluentary manslaughter we the jury find the defendant guilty. On count 3 willful assault we find the defendant guilty and that is how it went. Not guilty on count one, guilty on all other lesser included offenses. As I turned towards the defense table, I could see my brother had turned ashen white. Hope had turned into despair, elation into desperation! I could only stare on as if I were an observer outside of my own body. I didn't want to do it, testify against my own brother, I mean who does that? The problem is that after the events aligned themselves as if they were a self fulfilling prophecy, I didn't have a choice.

I was brought up in a loving home with two parents. I had 3 siblings, one older and 2 younger. Each of us had our own interest and talents. My older sister was interested in music and fashion and followed a path that would lead her into a career in the music industry after college. I was always interested in sports and the outdoors. I had an affinity for being involved in group activities such as the scouts and baseball. My younger sister was a bookworm and loved studying and writing. Then there was my younger brother. He was younger than me by 3 years and was always protected by our parents and my younger sister. He was very smart but didn't try that hard, and yet he seemed to get by just fine. For years he went down this path, then he finally decided to go off to college. He was popular just as he had been in high school. He was involved in the party scene and had a lot of so-called friends. While he was traveling down the path he had chosen, I found a different calling when I entered college. At some point, I began to feel unfulfilled and got involved in a religious organization. My parents had always attended church and took us along, but I never really bought into it until one day I was convicted in my heart and became a Christian. After college, I decided to spend time as a missionary. I was a teacher by vocation and wanted to go out into the world and make a difference. I took my beliefs to heart and spent a year abroad where I met a wonderful woman that I hoped to marry. I returned home and in one unfortunate moment, my world was turned upside down. I couldn't imagine what a test of my faith it was going to be.

I had only been back a few months from my time working as a missionary. I was at our parents' home. I was spending time getting back into a routine of being with family and friends. One night I was up late reading a book, it was just before midnight. I heard a vehicle speeding up towards the house. The vehicle skidded to a stop in the driveway. I went to the window and looked down from the second floor. I saw a car door open and someone stumbled out. The vehicle then backed up and took off again in a hurry. I was the only one home and our nearst neighbors are several yards away with a hedge row between the houses. I wondered who could be coming home in such a hurry at this hour. I went downstairs expecting someone to open the door and come in, but no one did. Instead, I heard someone at the side of the house. They were trying to undo the gate that leads to the back yard. I turned on the home security monitor and saw the figure climbing over the fence. I could not make out their face, but I could see that they were not too coordinated. I watched as the individual made it over and hit the ground. The person then crawled to their feet and disappeared out of camera view, at least until they were around the back of the house. I saw the shadowy figure in the half light. They person appeard to be undressing, their shoes, pants and shirt all came off. Then without any ceremony, they went over to the ladder leading up to the deck of our above ground pool and simply dove in. I could hear the loud splash. It was at this point that I decided to investigate. I found a flashlight and headed outside. Their was ambient light from the moon and a back yard security light. I felt it best to not turn on all of the flood lights, no until I could determine what I was dealing with. I know what you are thinking, why not call the police. In retrospect I probably should have, but I felt that if the person knew to do what they did, then perhaps it was some one we knew. So out the back of the house and to the pool. I climbed up on the deck and looked into the water, someone was splashing around. They would come up and dive down again. I then turned on the flash light and as the individual came up, I saw their face. I knew in an instance, it was my youngest brother. He seemed as though he was a deer in a set of headlights. I could tell that he wasn't himself, he just staired up at the light. From that point on it is pretty much a blur in my memory unless I really focus and try to make sense of what had gone on. I remember that I spoke to him but not what the content of the conversation was. I helped him out of the pool and into the house. We entered through the back patio door. He was drenched and shivering from the late night dip. I got him inside and he found the shower. He took off his underwear and let the hot water wash over him. I went back and found his clothes. I took his personal items out of the pants pockets and laid them on the kitchen table. I hadn't seen my sibling in over a year and now he was back home and apparently disoriented. I had to compose myself and take stock of what was going on. I heard the clock chime and I looked up and saw it was 1am. Time seems to have escaped me, I just stood in the kitchen trying to figure this all out. My brother finally came out of the shower, he appeared to be a bit more coherent. I asked him what is going on, he simply said that he had been somewhere and had done something but he was very vague. He said that he had to go that he had something important to do. He ran to the closet in his old room and put on some clothes. He packed up some things and went into the kitchen and headed for the cookie jar where our mother kept emergency money. I tried to stop him and talk to him but he just pushed past me. He opened the jar and took out its content and stuffed it into his pocket. He then grabbed his stuff off of the table and said that I should forget that I had seen him, then he was gone. Out the door and into a car, possibly the one that had dropped him off earlier. Now here I was left with an inigma of a mystery to ponder out.

After my brother left in such a hurry, I went back and found his clothes. I brought them into the house and examined them I saw that they were covered in dark spots and splotches. I sniffed it but it didn't have any real distinct smell that I could recognize, then it dawned on me. I was a bit shaken, but I couldn't be, was it blood? I stood frozen for a moment, unsure what I was experiencing. Part of me said get rid of the clothes, another part said wash them. Still another part was paralized with indecison. I didn't know what he had done, but I had a bad feeling and I would soon be proven right.

I got up early the next morning and packed up my things. I found my brothers' clothes where I had left them. I placed them into a plastic bag then a second bag. I was still trying to wrap my mind around what was going on, so I took the bagged-up clothes and went out to the garage. I opened up the freezer and pulled out several packages of food. I stuck the dark plastic bag containg the clothes as far into the freezer as I could. I covered it over with food. I needed time to think. I wasn't sure what was going on or how bad it was. I got onto my motor bike and was gone, leaving the house and the mystery behind while I figured some things out. I was gone for over a week, I went to a place up in the wilderness where my church held retreats. I had gotten a key to a cabin from a friend who was a deacon. I wrestled with my conscience and met with the churches group counselor. I prayed a lot but didn't look at any media because I didn't want to know what had happened, not yet. After a week in seclusion, I decided to rejoin the world. I returned home to find cars in front of my parents home. I wasn't sure what was going on so I went down the street and parked my bike in the driveway of a family friend. I then texted my mom to ask what was going on. She told me to come home from the rear of the house via a walking path. I felt like a thief sneaking around, but I would find out when I got to the house that the vehicles in front of the house were police detectives and a couple of news paper reporters. I ask what this was all about and mom and dad began to relate to me that my younger brother was in trouble. When I looked into their eyes, I could see that it was bad. They explained to me that the police were looking for him and that he was a suspect in a homicide. They didn't know all of the details except what they media and the police had released publically. My dad said that once they found out what was going on, they had called our family attorney. Mom and Dad said they didn't answer any questions without the attorney and that I shouldn't either. I felt crushed in my spirit. I had spent a week away thinking about what might be going on and what I might be getting involved in.

The next few days were pretty harrowing for me. I had snuck back out of my parents' house and got back on my bike. I waited until my mom and dad had gone to bed and snuck back to the house. My stomach was in knots but in my heart, I felt compelled, as if an invisible hand was guiding me. I retrieved the bag of clothing and went out to the unmarked car sitting across from the house. The portly looking man sitting in the drivers seat rolled down the window. It was well past 11 pm and he asked me who I was and what I was doing out this hour. I told him that I was the older brother of the man they were looking for and that I had something I needed to tell him. After that things snowballed, I was taken down to police headquarters and questioned. I told the detectives that I didn't want council to be present and I retold the story of what happened that night my brother came home. I surrenderd his clothes and signed a sworn statement and that was pretty much it. I simply had to let things take their course.

My brother was arrested a few weeks after I spoke to the cops. I was called to testify before the grand jury. Then at trial I had to take the witness stand. Now I sit here, disowned by my family. Aching in every fiber of my soul. My brother was a murderer. Though he hadn't intended to kill another human being, at least acccording to the jury verdict, I knew he was a killer. Despite the way things turned out, I think that there is some kind of peace in my decision. My fiancé is still trying to wrap her mind around what has happened. She is doing her best to understand, but given the commitment I made to my principals and my faith, I didn't have a choice?