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notquiteaghost · 4 years

Text

there’s nothing i wouldn’t do

mcu/hawkeye comics, post-avengers, barney&clint, 2k

inspired by this post

AO3 link in notes

He wasn’t expecting it to be a thing, is the problem.

Like, how often do aliens fucking invade New York? Once in a lifetime deal, it’s gotta be. Clint was busy — with having a hole in his chest, but SHIELD wouldn’t like him picking fights with run-of-the-mill mobsters, so it was, once again, up to Barney to step up and keep his baby brother safe. Hell, even if Clint could’ve got out his building without passing out, Barney still probably would’ve gone instead. Clint’s just a guy.

He had a plan, and it should’ve been simple. Bandana tied round his face, hair hidden under a beanie, and only Natasha’s gonna notice which Barton is actually slinging the arrows around, and Natasha’s well-aware of Clint’s stab wound. Murder all the aliens, sit through Coulson’s lecture on Clint’s behalf, hopefully their building’s still standing by the end of it. Hold it over Clint’s head until they die. Never, ever do it again.

Except.

He goes after the wannabe god, and the wannabe god can, obviously, control fucking minds, so then he shoots a shit ton of almost-entirely-innocent SHIELD employees. And then Natasha knocks him out of it and they all murder a shit ton of aliens, so hopefully SHIELD will cancel the shoot on sight order, but after all the aliens are dead, Tony goddamn Stark drags them all to get shawarma, and it’s not like Barney can say no. He can’t make Captain America think Clint’s an asshole.

And then, three days later, when Barney’s trying to explain to Coulson that, no, Clint is absolutely not going to fucking Russia, Clint can’t lift his arms, and also they’re still trying to get back the power in their building and also also as far as SHIELD is concerned it was Clint who got used as a puppet by a hostile alien and then bounced without any kind of medical eval so what is this actually about, because it sure as shit ain’t a human trafficking ring — three days later, his phone rings. Caller ID says Your New Sugar Daddy, so it’s Stark, so Barney hangs up on Coulson and answers it.

“Y’know, I could use some new shoes,” he says, throwing Clint’s phone on the couch when it immediately starts buzzing again. “What’re your terms? How much skin am I showing to get some new shoes?”

Stark splutters, but recovers within seconds and says, “Shoes are a titty pic at least,” and Barney is suddenly, sinkingly certain that him and Stark could be friends. It makes him shudder.

He bites back the joke he wants to make about how many titty pics he gets to send before Stark stops buying him shoes, and says, “Titty pics ain’t why you’re calling, though.”

“Heard you’ve been having some apartment trouble,” Stark agrees, casually, like he has any way of knowing that that isn’t really fucking creepy. “Y’know, I have this great big tower. It’s got, amongst a lot of other things, an entirely self-sustaining power system.”

“…You want me to move in with you?”

“I’m just letting you know it’s an option, that’s all.”

Barney narrows his eyes. “Anyone else say yes?”

Stark huffs. “You’re first on my list, actually. Figured I’d start with the easiest, work my way up.”

Again, Barney bites his tongue. He cannot flirt with Tony Stark when Tony Stark thinks he’s his brother, no matter how funny it is. He’s sworn off starting shit with Clint since they got banned from Lithuania. “And what if I like my apartment?”

The briefest of pauses, before Stark says, “Then you keep living in your apartment. Again, just letting you know your options.”

“Pay to have the power lines for my block fixed,” Barney says, just as Clint stumbles out his room, “and maybe I’ll swing by for lunch. That’s what this is really about, yeah? Team building shit?”

“Wait, your block doesn’t have power?”

Clint is staring at him, eyes narrowing. He’s been awake maybe ten minutes, and it’s a coin toss if he’s remembered to put his aids in yet. Barney makes a face at him. “Half the damn city doesn’t have power, don’t you watch the news? Hell, ain’t people waving big signs outside your front door?”

“I’ve been—” Stark starts, then stops himself, then presumably remembers he’s trying to tempt Barney into some kinda morning-cartoons perma-sleepover and that’s gonna require some emotional vulnerability, and says, “Been in the workshop, mostly. The suit didn’t cope so well in the vacuum of space. But, yeah, power, I can do power. Text me about lunch.”

“Only if Captain America’s there, too,” Barney says, then hangs up. Clint’s eyes are even narrower. He’s gonna give himself a headache. “What?”

“Were you talking to Tony Stark?”

“Yeah, he wants me to move in with him.”

“He wants me to move in with him,” Clint counters.

“Hey, I’m the one who actually fought the aliens, kid—”

“I was all for fighting the aliens! You ziptied me to the bed!”

“And that you couldn’t get out of those makes it clear you were in no shape for fighting the aliens.” Barney walks into the kitchen, digs through their pile of homecooked food — you showing up on TV saving the world makes everyone want to cook you things, it turns out — for Clint’s pain meds. Clint leans against the wall and looks pitiful.

“Maybe I wanna live with Tony Stark,” he says. Barney laughs, hands Clint the tablets and the water so his hands are free to talk.

“Thought you were gonna die in this shithole. Thought, next time anyone shoots you, you were gonna demand they carry you back here so you can bleed out on the floor since getting the blood out’ll be someone else’s problem.”

“Bet Stark’s eyesore of a tower’s got power, though.”

“And soon,” Barney assures him, “so will we.”

Clint shuffles back to the couch and flops over it, and almost hides his wince at the feelings his stab wound has about that. “Bet Stark’s tower’s got heated floors. Stupid fast internet. Bet he’s got chefs and cleaners and everything.”

Barney always forgets how being hurt makes Clint into a five year-old again. “If some stranger tried to clean your room, you would stab them.” Clint sticks his tongue out.

Then he jumps, because Barney’s phone is buzzing again. Got his aids in, then.

It’s a text, this time, from an unknown number.

???: Stark tells me you’ll only come out to play if I come out too - Steve

“Holy shit,” Barney says, “Captain America is texting me.”

“What the fuck,” Clint pushes himself up, “Give me the phone. Give me the phone! He’s texting me!”

“Again,” Barney says, typing complete nonsense so Clint hears the tapping noise, “it was me who he bonded with when we murdered a load of aliens together, he has no idea who you are.”

“Barney. He’s Captain America.”

Goddammit, that fucking whine. He throws Clint his phone.

Then stands behind him to watch him type.

You: he ain’t exactly my usual kinda buddy

You: appreciate the thing with the missile obviously but also i don’t think he pays taxes?

Clint backspaces four times to change his terrible text speak for actual words. It’s hilarious.

steve!!!!: He fucking better.

You: if you yell at him about this please film it

You: i promise not to put it online i just want it playing on a loop in my apartment

steve!!!!: He says ‘Excuse me of course I pay taxes, I have to get rid of all this money somehow’

steve!!!!: I’m double-checking with Miss Potts.

You: did shield just give you the phone numbers of the entire population of new york

steve!!!!: No, I think it’s only 30%.

You: oh shit do you have fury’s number

steve!!!!: Strangely, no.

You: dammit

You: one day

“You are definitely the reason Fury didn’t give Captain America his personal cell number,” Barney says. Clint shoves at him.

steve!!!!: Not planning on moving into Stark’s place, then?

You: think living somewhere that expensive would give me a rash

You: don’t tell shield this but i stole my apartment from the mob

“Oh my God Clint they are definitely reading his texts,” Barney groans.

You: hey uh unrelated but anyone give you an update on opsec

Clint glares at him, pointedly, then makes a truly inhuman noise when he reads Steve’s next reply.

steve!!!!: Is that an offer?

“Oh my fucking God I’m gonna become best friends with Captain America,” Clint says, low and reverent.

Barney rolls his eyes. “He still thinks he’s talking to me.”

“So? You wore a mask and shit, he won’t notice.”

“You are so fucking injured. He will definitely notice.”

“Okay, then you wear a wire, and I tell you what to say—”

Barney snatches the phone back, types out ‘hell yeah let’s get a drink, when you free?’, then locks it and tucks it away. Clint is fully pouting.

“I’m going out,” Barney reminds him. “Coulson wants you in Russia, I’m gonna find out the fuck why. Amuse yourself for a while, you can keep flirting with Captain America when I get back.”

“If you really loved me you’d wear a wire,” Clint huffs. Barney ruffles his hair and goes to find his jacket.

–––––––––––––––

“Explain to me again,” Coulson says, exasperated in a way Barney’s more used to seeing directed at Clint, “why you thought pretending to be Clint was in any way a good plan.”

Usually, they have chats like these in some pretentious hipster place, where all the drinks have dumb names and cost twenty bucks a pop, but for obvious reasons that’s not happening. So, they’re in a park, miraculously untouched. There’s a flock of pigeons going at what looks like some bodega’s entire stock of bread.

“Clint was stabbed doing something SHIELD don’t need to know about; SHIELD didn’t tap me for the Avengers, ‘cause they still think I’d sell them all out for the right price; aliens were invading New York; I live in New York and I didn’t have any other plans.”

Coulson pinches at the bridge of his nose. He for sure agrees Barney made the right call, given the givens, and he will for sure die before he ever admits it. Barney is the reason the wannabe god didn’t stab him through the chest, though, so Barney is gonna try and make him admit it.

“You don’t have clearance to know about the Avengers.”

“Half the world knows about the Avengers, we were on every news channel there is.”

“Prior to the Chitauri invasion,” Coulson says, exasperation ticking up a notch, “you did not have clearance to know about the Avengers Initiative. SHIELD already don’t trust you, and now you’ve been compromised by a hostile alien with unknown motivations and allegiances—”

“Which is why SHIELD’s gotta keep thinking it was Clint,” Barney agrees, “‘cause they'll just straight up shoot me.”

Coulson sighs, heavily. But he doesn’t disagree.

“Going forward, then,” he says. “Are you going to continue to be Hawkeye?”

“I kinda really thought the alien invasion was a one-time thing. You telling me we’re expecting more aliens?”

“Not with any certainty,” which is Coulson for ‘yeah, probably’. “But I, for one, would rather we were prepared. And with the way some things are going, the Avengers may be needed for purely Earth-based disputes.”

“You get superheroes, you’re asking for supervillains?”

“Unfortunately.”

Barney lets out a long breath. It should be hilarious, that some idiot might actually pull on a cape and a dumb mask and try to take over the world, but he just got done stopping the last idiot, and they’re still pulling out the bodies. Morning cartoons never have collateral damage.

“I gotta talk to Clint,” he says. “He’d be better at it, but he’s been muttering about bouncing from SHIELD lately. Taking it real personal that you don’t trust me, who’d’ve thunk it.”

“I trust you,” Coulson says, lightly. Barney rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, no shit. Look, I’ll go to Russia, but someone’s gotta babysit Clint while I’m gone. I’m sick of the fucker pulling his stitches.”

“I don’t know who’s going to be there to meet you—”

“This ain’t the first mission I’ve run in Clint’s place.”

Coulson blinks. Huh, Barney had honestly thought he knew about that. “Well,” he says, “then you leave bright and early tomorrow morning. Try not to get in too much trouble, would you?”

Barney grins, trademark Barton asshole. “No promises.”

#marvel #the avengers #hawkeye #hawkguy #clint barton #barney barton #tony stark #steve rogers #hello it’s me the world’s only barney barton stan #yelling at clouds #fic tag #also. love how at this point not ‘killing’ coulson just means #ignoring all the agents of shield bullshit #no he didnt get forced to fake his death. that was so dumb.#fuck you fury. all your ideas suck.

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unpretty · 7 years

Note

Please post pics of your new mixer attachments?

IT’S TIME FOR FOODBLOGGING PART TWO: THE PRODUCT REVIEW THAT GOES ON FOREVER AND MAKES YOU READ MY LIFE STORY BEFORE TELLING YOU WHETHER THE THING IS WORTH BUYING

(spoiler: maybe the ice cream maker, almost certainly not the juicer)

when last we left our heroes, i did not have a stand mixer, but then my dad bought me one and then very recently bought me some fancy attachments for… my brother’s birthday?? i don’t really know why, maybe he just likes buying kitchen shit but has run out of room in his own kitchen and is living vicariously through me. who knows, whatever.

i’m using this recipe for ice cream, and this kitchenaid ice cream attachment thing. at least i assume that’s the one, it’s the most popular one on amazon and that’s generally how my dad makes purchasing decisions. the new york times claimed to have the only ice cream recipe i would ever need, but it involved, like, cooking some egg yolks and milk in a saucepan and basically making a fancy fucking custard as step one, and that’s too many goddamn steps. all of the recipes that came with this fucking attachment were just as bad so fuck that, if this recipe is good enough for ben and/or jerry it’s good enough for me, i’ll save the fancy shit for when i’m in the mood to really hate myself. where was i.

don’t @ me about the imitation vanilla, i know i should be using real vanilla and not dollar store fake shit, i don’t care. this tiny corner of the counter used to be my designated tea corner but it’s kind of become overwhelmed by fifty million fucking appliances, but especially this goddamn stand mixer. it’s huge. it’s fucking monstrous. i’m really hoping we can get a table, or an island, or a buffet or something to keep this thing on once we get rid of the kitchen couch. don’t ask about the kitchen couch.

that picture is from last september, why the fuck have we had a kitchen couch for so long. anyway this recipe says to whisk together eggs and sugar until they’re fluffy but not firm, which i guess means whisk the shit out of it but don’t make a meringue? i don’t know what constitutes fluffy.

once i arbitrarily decided it was fluffy enough i dumped all the milk and cream and fake vanilla in there, but like, there ended up being just a bunch of egg yolk sorta stuck to the bottom of the bowl that i didn’t find until later when it was too late. this happens every goddamn time i use this fucking whisk and you’d think i’d learn but i do not. @kitchenaid why

here’s the real moment of truth, the ice cream maker. i’ve been keeping the bowl in the freezer since i got it and it takes up literally half of my dinky little freezer. they say to freeze it for a minimum of 15 hours but to keep it in the freezer all the time so you can make ice cream on a whim, but they sorely overestimate the size of my freezer or underestimate how much room i need for pizza rolls.

when i took this picture i had actually already started making it, but originally i was going to just… idk. ladle the mix into the ice cream bowl out of the big silver bowl. that was A TERRIBLE FUCKING IDEA, and ice cream mix got everywhere, and i don’t have any pictures of that because it turned out you could see my reflection in the silver bowl and i’m not wearing pants. i haven’t been wearing pants this whole time. wait, does that picture from earlier have my reflection in it? shit. it fucking does. i’m going to edit that with a sticker or something but only people who’ve made it this far into the post will know why that’s there. there’s going to be a cut here but to people on mobile it will just look like the post ends and for that i apologize (or maybe… you’re welcome???)

as you can see there is like an inch or two where you can pour the mix in, which is why the ladle was such a fucking shit garbage idea, but once i put the mix into a measuring cup like a sensible person it was fine. at this point i just have to let it run for a half hour, so i figured i’d set some bread out to rise and maybe stick some milk in the crockpot to make yogurt while i was at it.

this all sounds very productive but i keep a huge tub of bread dough in the back of the fridge at all times so i can just make bread whenever, it is actually the laziest bread in the fucking world

and yes, before you ask, i did buy one of every flavor of the mystery flavored peeps. i also still haven’t put any pants on. at this point i went to set a timer for the yogurt and realized that i had never actually set a timer for a half hour, and had no idea when the ice cream was supposed to be done. i would just have to eyeball it and hope for the best.

slightly more like ice cream, but still not ice cream

this is what it looks like outside and i’m making ice cream, what am i even doing.

that seems… doneish? at this point it was like, noon, exactly, which would maybe explain why i didn’t set a timer, because maybe i thought i could just remember that it was supposed to be done at noon. i don’t know why i thought that. i have been dealing with myself for 27 years so you’d think i’d know better.

THIS FUCKING THING is a straight bitch and a half to get all the ice cream off of and i was determined not to waste any so this was the point where i just started licking it. and like. HOLY SHIT. HOLY SHIT. IT’S SO GOOD. i tried to take a selfie of the look of awe and wonder on my face but at this point i had bedhead and no pants and my face was covered in white vanilla cream so i think you can understand why i deleted that posthaste.

it came with a tub to keep the ice cream in, so, that was nice.

FINAL VERDICT: it works. but i’m pretty sure you can get dedicated ice cream makers for cheaper than this thing and they wouldn’t take up much more room than this bigass bowl. but if you’re determined to maximize the value of your colossal fucking kitchen appliance then this is a good use of a kitchenaid.

NOW FOR THE JUICER

“kitty that sure does look like a lot of fiddly bullshit to attach to a kitchenaid” haha you are CORRECT. note the helpfully provided toothbrush to help you clean this thing. but WAIT UNTIL YOU SEE HOW IT GOES ON

THIS IS THE LEAST STABLE LOOKING THING IN THE WORLD. it’s fine, but, jesus christ. this looks so unsafe. somehow they’ve found a way to make a kitchenaid take up even more goddamn counter space. as long as i’m bitching, i fucking hate juice recipes. they’re all like ‘four stalks of celery’ but like that’s not a fucking measurement?? what size celery are you using??? i guaran-fucking-tee it’s smaller than the celery i’m using because there’s no goddamn way you want four of these.

i barely even want one of these. i’m only using this because i bought this big fucking bag of celery and now i need to get rid of it. what is even the point of having celery in this? it doesn’t have vital nutrients. it’s just water with regrets. don’t juice celery.

they say you don’t have to peel the ginger or the carrots but unpeeled carrots make the worst juice in the world and i don’t want to risk drinking ginger skin. have you seen ginger skin. it’s gross. i also core all my apples even though i shouldn’t need to because i’m convinced i’ll drink apple seed juice and get cyanide poisoning somehow. anyway i’m sure there’s a way to peel a lemon without wasting all the lemon juice but i haven’t found it.

that looks like the world’s worst salad. you have to carefully position the pitcher and the pulp thing or you’re going to have a lot of problems.

starting off with carrots was actually a terrible goddamn plan because that would be one hell of a way to find out i positioned my pitchers wrong. ‘whoops, now my counters are ruined forever because carrot juice will stain everything you love’. incidentally the little thing that holds the beater/whisk/whatever just kind of spins wildly for as long as you’re juicing. it’s deeply unsettling.

this is… okay, i will be the first to admit that this does not look great. i used the low pulp filter but there is still a significant amount of pulp. but once i run it through another filter and mix it all up…

… it actually looks worse. okay so i just kind of made up a recipe because i figured, like, carrots are good and blueberries are good and kale exists, but now i realize why i couldn’t find any carroty blueberry-y recipes. it’s because it looks like shit. now i understand why people color-coordinate their veggies. i drank it and it actually tastes… like a lot of ginger. i put too much ginger. my sinuses have never been so clear. but now the best part: CLEANUP

that sure is a whole lot of shit i get to clean, now. there was basically an entire cucumber in there, which plus the pulp and the peels and everything is a whole lotta trash. i’m giving it to mom’s chickens so it’s not a complete waste but good god.

FINAL VERDICT: i like being able to pretend that my kitchenaid is for anything besides making me fatter but this is not a good juicer. it somehow takes up more room than a normal juicer, it’s horrible to clean, and it’s not even cheap. it’s better than no juicer, and if someone offers you this juicer then you might as well take it, but like if you have options, this is not the one to go for.

unrelated to the kitchenaid, the bread turned out great. i had it with some creamed honey i bought from the muffler shop in town that a beekeeper owns, and some cherry jam. it made me feel really healthy and wholesome about eating what was basically a hunk of carbs covered in sugar.

#Anonymous #original #food #foodblogging

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nicholasbock · 7 years

Text

A Journal of Juror Number 2 in the case of The State vs. Francis Thomas

Preface

I want you to know, before reading the following that I was not permitted to take notes during the entirety of the trial. In truth, I only meant this to be read by my girlfriend once the trial was over. She was asking me what was happening and I had to tell her repeatedly that I couldn’t talk about it. I hoped this would make up for it and realized that others may want to read it.

I did however, keep in the spirit of not taking notes. Once I wrote the day’s log, I DID NOT go back to re-read it. I never went back to refer to a previous entry because I felt that it was not in line with the judge’s decision to not take notes. I only just now realized that I think only the court clerk ever officially told us we couldn’t take notes as per the judge. But whatever. Because I wanted to keep the fact that I didn’t reread what I wrote in spirit, I didn’t edit the following. Forgive me for any spelling errors or name inconsistancies.

My time in jury selection began on Tuesday and lasted until Thursday. The first day of actual court was on the following Monday. I should note that I tried to listen to all the reasons people tried to get out of duty. The biggest one to win was having a vacation the following week. I think it’s important to note that while I didn’t actively try to be picked, I certainly wasn’t going to try and get out of it.

Day 1

Last week was dedicated to jury selection to which I was chosen as juror number 2. Today, Monday the 17th of April, was opening statements and initial testimonies of officers and forensics - including one expert on fingerprints who explained in great detail the methods used to find fingerprints and ultimately find the knife used in the stabbing to be undecipherable.

The state side consists of a well dressed woman who is very direct and seemingly very focused but definitely exaggerates the attack and a large man who has -to date- dropped his pen twice, a thumb drive, and a post-it (the last of which he ignored (I saw him see it but didn’t pick it up)). This man also can’t seem to grasp the fact that after he has an article tagged in by the clerk, she is obligated to show it to Judge Ahto. This man has repeatedly held his hand out to take it from the clerk only to realize that the judge now has it. I have a low opinion of him.

The state’s opening statement offered no motive, just the stance that the defendant repeatedly stabbed the victim with the intent to kill. They made no mention of how the other victim, the mother of the defendant, got her wounds; one on her leg and one elsewhere (I believe it was the hand).

On the defendant side, there is the defendant, Francis Thomas(?) and the attorney whose name I missed. I have no solid opinion of them as it is the state’s purpose to find the guilt in the defendant and therefore will talk more than the defence. The defendant seems remorseful in the few times I’ve made eye contact with him, but that’s not a fact to base an opinion on.

Their opening statement consisted of the protective son who attacked the victim, Edward Mindi, because EM was constantly harming his mother. Her last name is Jai(sp?)

The facts are that there are blood droplets leading from the main bedroom -where the attack took place- to the laundry room by way of the front hall. However, at some point, someone who was bleeding -either EM or Jai- went up to the family room, placed the knife on the counter, dropped off a bloody shirt and moved to the couch.

When the cops came, FT was outside, without a shirt which was later revealed and had some blood, but was mostly ripped. I imagine it will be proven that the shirt was ripped while FT was wrestling EM away from FT’s mother, Jai.

As for timeline, it was stated by the defense, and therefore should be taken as the basis for fact (since it’s innocent until proven guilty) that one of the kids in the house was being punished by staying in his room by EM. Jai had made dinner and fetched the boy. EM became enraged due to her undermining him and dragged her into the room. At this point FT got up, peaked into the Master Bedroom and saw his mother held against the wall by her throat by EM who had a knife in his hand. The altercation took place in which FT gained control and stabbed EM repeatedly. The photos don’t seem at all that deep, but I’m hoping to find out exactly how deep in the days to come. It should be noted that at some point I developed the theory that it was in fact Jai that did the stabbing. Knowing how fights go, it is very unlikely that an altercation with a knife would result in only one of them actually being injured. FT has no wounds and no signs of struggle, except his ripped shirt. FT wouldn’t want to have his mother arrested so he kept quiet and EM would gain twofold by declaring FT as the attacker; he wouldn’t admit that the damage was caused by a woman (if he is a wife-beater that would be too embarrassing) and it would get Jai and FT away from each other which would give EM more control over Jai. I should note, I have yet to meet Jai or EM so this is completely speculation at this point. I should note that EM is also innocent until proven guilty in my book, and therefore the belief that he has been attacking Jai is only there to establish a basis for these initial theories. Once EM is on the stand or his character is more established, I can make further judgement.

Continuing the timeline, Jai separated the two and told FT to wait outside. Conflicting accounts say that EM called 911 (from state) or that one of the kids called (from defense).

The first responder had dashcam footage of his arrival. Both FT and Jai were outside. The victim, EM emerged from the house, the cops checked up on him, turned their weapons on FT and arrested him with no difficulty. The defense has pointed out on numerous occasions that the area is wooded and dark at that time. I suspect he will make the case that the defendant could have ran and easily escaped. From the inside footage, FT was calm but shaking. I assume he was shaking due to the cold but it could be from shock. He didn’t look afraid and he was calm.

There are a number of puzzles. For one, both sides spoke of the door to the master bedroom being broken. No one has made a claim on who broke it. What’s more odd is that there were two ways into the master bedroom. Was the other way obstructed? Based on what I saw and how far the lock plate flew, I have to assume that it was EM who busted it in since FT is lanky - it is possible, but more likely EM. Where does that fit in the timeline?

The defense has shown on multiple occasions that the door to the master bedroom has had a number of locks prior to the previous deadbolt. I believe he will make the case that EM has broken in before.

In addition, when the cops came, one kid was asleep. Who could sleep through a stabbing?

There was a picture of the bedroom and much farther than the door could possibly hit there looked to be a dent in the wall. This was from the pic that included the diamond shaped window, but just the frame of it. I want to look more closely at it to correctly identify it.

And finally, while EM had photographs of the injuries taken while in the hospital, Jai refused. I can think of three possible reasons for this; either she just didn’t want to be photographed for personal reasons, she didn’t want to implicate FT as the stabber due to their mother/son relationship and the fact that it was most likely an accident, or she was afraid that EM would take any assistance to the police as an attack against him.

Day 2

Today was mostly a wasted day. The jurors were ready by 8:30 but the first witness didn’t show until 9. We were brought out and a supposition of facts was read. In it it was revealed that the blue shirt, the one that was ripped and was FT’s, contained traces of blood that belonged to EM and one that belonged to a female. Jai must have refused DNA tests. Obviously it is believed that the female blood was hers.

A nurse was called in but offered no new insight. Her role, I imagine, was just to prove that EM was definitely in the hospital. She counted the wounds to be 17 but when she gave locations, I must have missed one. I counted 16. She said two wound by one ear, one by the other. One on the head, five on the left shoulder, five on the left back, one on the arm and one on the hand.

The only other thing to take away fro today is that once again, the male lawyer on the state side spoke and as he approached the nurse, he slammed into the partition right in front of me that made it vibrate. I’m not sure I mentioned it before, but this is the second time he has done this. It’s not that I’m looking for reasons to not like the guy, quite the opposite in fact. It’s just that he does so unapologetically. Maybe it’s a social awkwardness, I’m not sure.

Completely unrelated, while the judge was reading from a page, I noticed a considerable amount of shaking. At first I thought it was a mild case of Parkinson’s but when I brought it up with the other jurors it was revealed that the judge was over 80. This was surprising. His skin seems so smooth; no wrinkles. As for his facial hair, I just assumed that he was a civil war reenactor in his down time, not that he actually lived through it. Naturally, that was an old man joke. In truth, I like the judge. So far he is my favorite player.

Day 3

Today was all about the victim, Edward Mindy. His testimony revealed that he was married when he first met FT’s mother, Jai (whose first name is apparently Mignon). She knew of the relationship. At the start of their relationship, they lived alone. FT and his brother was in Africa and EM was helping Jai bring them to America.

Once FT was here, it was revealed that there had been a growing number of problems with FT. He was sent to live with his uncle at one point and completely abandoned the next. As EM tells it, the defendant was smoking in the house, watching pornography, drinking, and being a general disruption to the other boys in the house. He compared FT to a nephew who was also very welcome in the household, JS.

It was then revealed that Jai was having an affair and would stay out late. EM would argue about it with her. Oddly, FT had sent him a text that was directed to his mother in which FT called his mother a prostitute and generally attacked her character. It was EM’s testimony that he told FT not to talk to his mother like that. I presume, if this did happen, that FT’s goal was to elicit an emotional response from EM. In truth, it’s looking more and more likely that FT did in fact commit the stabbing. We have yet to hear from either Jai or FT himself so I’ll reserve any judgement until after.

In regard to character, EM seems respectable and only trying to keep a calm house. The lines for both property and parenting is a bit hazy. They both seem to own the house, but it was stated that before that the house belonged to Jai. The attorney representing the defendant, a bully of a man when pitted against EM, had said before that Jai was angered with EM because he wasn’t contributing to the family. Based on the testimony, I didn’t see that to be true. No one argued the statement that EM was taking the one kid to soccer practice. For that reason, I can only assume he was doing his best to be a good parent.

When FT was homeless - and I genuinely believe that EM thought FT was bouncing from house to house between other family members - he texted EM to ask to sit and discuss his return. When the text messages were read aloud, EM seemed genuinely eager to help under the condition that they first discuss it as a family and certain rules are established. EM tried to stress the fact that he was part of the family.

During the defendant’s attorney’s time with the victim, he attacked, and yes, it was an attack, the victim trying to get him to admit that the reason he had a problem with FT was because he hadn’t gained control over all aspects of the issue. The attorney would try and force a selfish facade onto EM. The texts revealed too much of EM’s personality for me to believe that.

On the night of the attack, EM said gave the following sequence of events; he was home all day until it was time to take one kid to soccer practice. The practice was called short on account of an approaching storm. He went home. At some point he stopped an argument between the two youngest over an issue about Pokemon cards. He sent them to their room as punishment for the argument. Jai got home around 8:30 even though she said she would be home by 4. They began to have an argument about Jai letting the kids out of their rooms. This argument escalated to include EM’s belief that the reason she was late was because she was with another man. When Jai wanted to push the argument, he backed off and went to the room saying that he didn’t want to argue that point with the kids around. Jai followed and locked the door to the master bedroom behind her. The argument escalated and Jai was in the attacking position. EM grabbed her hands and moved to get around her to leave the room. At this point, FT broke the door, rushed in, and began stabbing EM. He wrestled the knife away and FT fled outside. According to him, the knife was dropped in the bedroom. EM then walked down the hall, took his bloody shirt off by the island in the kitchen area, called 911 (confirmed by audio of the 911 call) and laid down on the couch. At some point someone had gotten him a towel, presumably Jai.

It should be noted that there was some blood leading into the laundry room. EM says he did not go that way and I can only assume that the blood belonged to Jai. As of yet, Jai’s injuries have not been explained.

Probably not worth mentioning, the defendant’s collar and lapel was not set this morning. His attorney must have noticed but did not address it. This leads me to believe that he, the attorney, sees the defendant as a job and not a person who should look well dressed in a formal setting.

Possibly relevant is the fact that EM seems well educated and articulate. He knows what he should say and how he should say it. This isn’t proof of guilt, of course, but it is of note.

As for wild speculation, it may be that Jai wanted EM’s money and conspired with FT who was the one to do the actual killing. I was hoping to see EM’s will to know if Jai was on it. Though now that I think of it, even if she wasn’t, their son would get everything and because he’s underage, it would go to her.

And finally, there’s the puzzle of how the knife ended up on the island. The last place it was remembered to be was in the bedroom.

Day 4

There are far too many redundancies in this case. Today several people were called in to accurately discuss the wounds sustained by EM and Jai. Aside from that, no new evidence was presented. What questions I had remain.

I was surprised when the state rested. Essentially they declared their side of the case as done. As it is, I am leaning more to the state’s side. There appears to be a history of FT being a problem to the household; something the judge has stressed shouldn’t necessarily act as proof of guilt for this instance. The defence’s one move so far has been to show EM as a controlling man who will do what he has to to keep everyone in his life in line to the point of taking ownership for things that aren’t his. Based on what I’ve seen, this is far from the truth.

Before I forget again, yesterday the defense read something out of a binder that the judge said would have to be marked. I’m not sure if it was. As of now, I have even forgotten what the document was. It could have been the email exchange between EM and Jai. I simply don’t remember. The court clerk said I should ask the judge about it during deliberation. I don’t think I’ll remember in the moment.

At this time, I don’t think Jai wants to or will testify. I assume that because she cares for both parties she doesn’t want to condemn either of them. However, it has been revealed that she was sleeping around and while that doesn’t directly point to a lack of love for EM, it may. This is telling in that she won’t testify in favor of her son because she knows he committed the crime - and because she doesn’t outright hate EM, she won’t lie under oath against him.

There are far too many possibilities. Yes, all signs point to FT having committed the crime and that he has held an animosity towards EM for a long while and that he has simply been hiding it; fangs behind a smile, if you will. But without FT or Jai up there talking, there’s no way of really knowing.

I will say that yesterday, during EM’s testimony, I made sure to watch FT and noticed him staring, something he hasn’t done with the other witnesses. It wasn’t a simple listening to the recount, it was a stare. Not necessarily a death stare, but it’s clear FT wanted to hear what EM had to say. At one point FT shook his head in disagreement with what EM was saying.

I really want to hear from Jai, know how she got her wounds, and whether it was her who moved the knife or if it was FT or if it was EM, absentmindedly.

Ultimately, I wish they would stop with the redundancies. I guess the one piece of information of note that was received today was the fact that one wound had broken a rib. This is significant, as the trauma doctor and expert explained, because it was one of the first ribs located just under the neck. These are thicker bones and, more importantly, harder to break.

It means that it is most likely that FT did the stabbing, which was never denied since the beginning but it takes away the possibility of Jai being the true attacker and everyone simply covering that up.

With that, the only pertinent question was whether EM was abusive or not. I don’t think he was, but it can’t be ruled out yet. I’m waiting to hear what defense has to say next week.

Day 5

Today was the long awaited testimony of Ms. Jai, corrected to Njie. Njie is the mother of the defendant. She made mention throughout her testimony to how controlling EM was. I have to say that hers is more believable than EM’s. Where EM had made a point to explain in detail the events, Njie’s was more chaotic. EM’s was straight forward; Njie was in a stance to attack and he held her hands when FT burst through the door and began stabbing his back. Njie’s was chaotic and more in line with an actual struggle for life. She fell a couple of times, couldn’t tell if what EM had was a knife or not, there was wrestling, she jumped on EM’s back, doesn’t quite remember how she got cut, etc.

The point is, in a struggle, or rather, in the fights that I have been in, it’s easy to lose track of what happened. It would be easy for her to not remember what EM easily did. Now, it could be that EM was more aware because he was the one being aggressively attacked but I don’t believe so. I’ll list the HARD facts that helped develop my belief on the sequence of events.

First, when Njie met EM, he had started a law firm, I believe it was his, but he could have simply joined one. By the end, he was out of work, meaning that he failed. This meant that he was being supported by the very woman he referred to as a prostitute (in their native tongue, “chuggar”). She was getting tired of his rule, first complying with his wishes then acting against him; he had lost control over the relationship. EM once removed FT’s door, a show of dominance - fitting that Karma had FT have to remove EM’s door to stop the attack. The knife was found on the kitchen island right next to EM’s bloodied shirt. This is a large indicator that it was EM who brought the knife into the kitchen.

Soft facts; technically, EM’s initial law firm is a soft fact. There was no proof that he was actually going to work. Still, he wasn’t working at the end so even if he was pretending to go to work, my analysis stands. Njie had mentioned a lot on her culture. She explained that family comes first and youths were to do what the elders asked. To my belief this also means that a man’s voice has more weight than a woman’s. To the point, EM may have felt it was his right to command the family.

When the cops came, EM had told Njie in their native language not to say anything. Are we to believe that the reason she didn’t (which we know she didn’t) was because he had told her not to? We would have to be convinced on how controlling he is. Unless more proof is given to his character, this will be difficult to determine. It was implied by Ms. Njie that EM’s threats continued until today. This cannot be developed and therefore must be assumed as hearsay and therefore irrelevant.

There are several issues with her testimony. The first being on how she admitted to her raising FT - that she “spoiled him rotten.” One has to ask “how rotten? Rotten enough to commit murder for not getting what he wanted?”

Second, she admitted to re-entering the residence after the life-threatening event to “change her clothes”. Who the hell would do that? I mean, she denied the forensic photographer pictures of the wound on her leg - something I feel is terribly important - because they were too close to her genitalia so she must be overly concerned with her appearances and embarrassment. Embarrassment, being the key; as she let EM stay as long as he did because she didn’t want to be embarrassed for being without a man; as she has testified.

Third, nearly two and a half years later, at the initial court hearing, she ended up in a car with EM in a hotel parking lot where Njie’s new roommate, Rachel, was called in to mediate their interaction. Who, in their right mind would ever get into a car with the very same person she will testify tried to murder her and then commit suicide after (which is what she testified he was yelling at her)?

The importance to her wound, which she indicated was on the inner thigh - the most important piece of evidence in my opinion - is this; INNER THIGH not outer. That is NOT a defensive wound. That wound could not have happened in a struggle. She would have been cut on the outer thigh, on her outer arms, on her hands, if she raised her hands at all, she could have been cut on her inner arms, or the sides of her chest, but the inner thigh? That’s insanely unlikely. That must have been a deliberate cut. As she stated, she doesn’t remember much about the fight. I believe that EM, with knife in his hand, held her throat and made the inner thigh his first cut; an area close to her genitalia, a symbol of sexual control. She was panicked and didn’t register it as she was gasping for air and trying to call out for help. No, this is the strongest indicator that she was attacked by EM and proof that I would make a great lawyer/detective; just sayin’.

The next testimony was that of Rachel, Njie’s new roommate who mediated the meeting between Njie and EM. It was entirely pointless. For reals.

And finally, the funniest moment for today was when State prosecutor was grilling Njie, and I mean she (the prosecutor) had her fangs out similar to how the defence attorney attacked EM. At one point, the defence objected and asked to approach the judge. I overheard him (the defence attorney) begin his objection when the lady state prosecutor said “hold on” to interject. The defence said “this is my objection, don’t tell me to hold on.” I laughed a bit and unfortunately Ms. Njie saw me. I felt guilty, considering her son is on trial for attempted murder and her testimony was full of tears. Still, though, it was funny.

Also, on the subject of Njie, she is a truly beautiful black woman with a sense of class. Unfortunately, she decided to wear a wig that made her look Romulan.

Day 6

Today the defence rested. It was after FT’s testimony. He was clearly nervous which is in line to his mother’s testimony that her son was timid at best. The defense lawyer made it known that FT stutters from time to time, which he did.

One of the most surprising things FT said was that he did not break the door to get into the room. According to him, it was already broken. With evidence across the bedroom that it was, definitely broken in, this would mean that the mess was just left there for however long it has been. During Njie’s testimony she admitted to closing the door, but she kept saying that the door was broken before hand. It was believed that she was referring to the holes where previous locks had been; two above the current one, that is now broken. Now I feel she actually meant that the door had been broken into before. I’m nearly convinced that EM is a controlling man and probably a rapist as well, breaking in doors. She had testified in passing that he watched her sleep, standing over her. She said this in between questions and I didn’t mention it until now because it was not part of the questions asked. I will keep it only as a possibility but she may have been attacking EM’s character.

I want to see that one image of the room near the diamond window. I believe that there was a dent in the wall. If there is one, this could have happened during the incident or beforehand and is proof of his temper.

I will say that FT’s testimony does sit in line with what I initially believed; that FT couldn’t have broken that door open. I definitely believe it was EM.

One of the thing the defence did was point out the plates of food. The one identified to be FT’s was chicken legs and rice. The defence lawyer then asked how the defendant eats his chicken legs; to which the defendant replies “Well, I’m Vegan now, but when I ate chicken legs, I ate it by hand” -indicating that no knife was needed.

Tomorrow is summations, changes, and deliberations. If I am one of the 12 to deliberate I have to try and remember to look at all of the interior pictures. I’d be looking for plates of food in the bedroom - sans knife, the wall and possible dent (keeping in mind that it may have happened in the struggle), and anything else that may have been missed.

I also want to see the medical records for Njie’s wounds. Hopefully they will give a more precise location of where the wound was.

Either way, I’ve already decided my beliefs on the facts. Again, it all comes down to Njie’s wounds. I’m sure we will all agree that FT would never intentionally hurt his mother and vice versa. The must mean that it was a deliberate cut made by EM or, if it WAS an accidental cut, it would have had to happen when Njie was jumping on EM’s back. Either way, it is proof that EM had the knife in his hand at some point. In his testimony, he didn’t have the knife; FT was the sole attacker.

Day 7

The dumbbell you stupid, stupid man! But first…

It is unfortunate to think that in the span of several weeks we were vetted, we listened to several versions of the same story, decided our beliefs on the facts; and now two of us will be chosen to step down as jurors. Their opinions used for nothing. I doubt they would let them stay in the audience if chosen to leave. How will the trial turn out? How would they know?

Today was summations and the lists of charges - as read by the judge in a grudgingly slow pace. It’s funny that during the prosecutor’s summation she both broke my armchair thesis and gave me a whole new one.

I’m not sure I mentioned this, but I enjoy the old armchair detective radio programs from the ‘30s and ‘40s. Basically, the group of suspects take their case to the detective who is often in a parlor or a library, sipping some sort of cognac and smoking a cigar or pipe (though I don’t remember any with a cigarette). Detective Nero Wolfe was always my favorite.

In these programs, a ton of evidence would be explained to Wolfe and at the end, he would sherlock himself and answer. It’s always a single piece of evidence that was the definitive proof. “Men empty your pockets, women overturn your purses” to quote Tim Curry from Clue.

The point is the set-up is just like jury duty. We’re presented all this evidence and all we need is an anchor. Mine was the cut on Njie’s leg. It was so perfectly evident. Unfortunately, during the state’s summation, the lady lawyer explained that Miss Njie pointed to her inner leg when in fact it was the outer. During deliberations I found that the medical record was not admitted into evidence. I lost my case based on doubt.

However, a new piece popped up just as quickly as the last one left. The state prosecutor was flashing all the evidence and all the photos and she had brought out the one of the busted door. If you remember, this was always puzzling, even until the end when FT denied breaking in. In fact, one of the first thing I noted was that FT was too small to break down a door; having broken into abandoned buildings in my youth, I can attest that it took two of us kicking in roughly the same spot.

Then, there it was… That damned dumbbell. Mocking me. Here is a 10 pound weight just sitting in the middle of a hall. The family had a clutter, no doubt about that. But it was organized. It was in piles in corners and on tv stands. This weight was sitting right by the broken door.

The only one who testified that the door was broken into that day was EM. He heard Njie lock the door. He heard FT break it open and, as the defence pointed out in his summation, didn’t turn to see what the noise was.

But why would it be there? Why a dumbbell? BECAUSE IT WAS USED AS A DOOR STOP!!!!!! The door had been broken for a while and they kept it shut with the weight. If it was a stop to keep the door open for air circulation, it would have been on the other side and farther up than it actually was. It is in the perfect place to prove that it was pushed aside when FT opened the door.

I was smiling. Actively, in the middle of her summation. I had to jolt myself out of looking like I just cracked the case. But the feeling was empowering.Too bad it didn’t last.

After the judge trudged through all of the charges and what each of them meant and what factors were required to be fulfilled, and the repetition of several definitions, we deliberated.

I was ready. I voted Not Guilty to all charges on account of EM being a lying bastard who was hungry for control and possibly sexually abused Njie. My mind was made up and everyone agreed. Except one… And with their statement, another joined. The two couldn’t see how a knife just appeared in EM’s hand. They believe that FT MUST have brought it in from the kitchen and therefore, it was premeditated.

My jaw dropped. They had a point, they did. But there was no proof. By law, the defendant is innocent unless proven without a reasonable doubt to be guilty. But the one defendant has “a feeling” that it must have happened a certain way.

In truth, there is no way of knowing. Maybe FT did bring that knife in. Maybe EM brought his plate into the room, but brought it back out before the cops came, or most likely, the knife was always in that clutter of a room. The fact that we don’t know proves that there is, in fact a reasonable doubt. Whether they want to define it as such or not.

I then challenged EM’s credibility by explaining that his testimony as farce from the moment FT “broke down the door.” I used the dumbbell. i was met with a bunch of un-enthusiastic “yeahs” and the one who wanted to plead guilty came back with a “that wasn’t presented by the lawyers.” Like that matters!!! It’s proof! So what if they didn’t say it! I did!

I’ve watched as the fat prosecutor dropped two pens, a thumb drive, and a post-it, the last of which he acknowledged and decided not to pick up. I can tell you that the defendant has three dress socks; striped blue, blue, and black! I flat out told you that there were fifteen seats in a fourteen person jury room! I HAVE been paying attention. You’re going to deny me a crucial observation because I didn’t list it in front of the judge while wearing a tie?

At this time, we decided to call it a day; leaving me without the armchair reveal. I am so terribly frustrated and I don’t believe I’m allowed to bring in any notes on what to say to this person. This is torture. Luckily, there’s those in the room who are more even tempered than I am and can articulate their positions better than I can.

I’m hoping this ends tomorrow. I’ve run out of good clothes to wear.

It’s 1:20. I can’t sleep. I have to remember to look at the bedroom pics again. I want proof that EM was in fact sleeping there. I think Njie testified that she was in one room and he was on the other side of the house. This would explain why there were those locks removed and why he had to break down the door. She never gave him a key. I really believe he is a sexual predator.

“ He would come in and watch me sleep” Ms Njie said this in passing. Come in from where? Was he not sleeping in that bed? Also, I have to remind them that James Saho had a room not located on the floor plan. Were there other areas of the house not shown on the floor plan?

Day 8

Today was a travesty. Our foreman/woman was sick yesterday and today she was out entirely. Her position was forfeit and one of the alternatives was selected to join. This woman voted for a guilty verdict. Those of us who voted Not Guilty; our hearts collectively dropped. Not only did we now have to start all over, but the ratio shifted from 10 of 12 to 9 of 12. We were further from agreement because of it.

In addition to this level of suckage, because our foreperson had left, it fell to me, juror number 2; fitting for my account, I suppose. But to be honest, I have a tendency to raise my voice. To say it bluntly, I am short-tempered. I’ve been working on my anger for a long while now and have made a lot of headway. But here, in this terribly inescapable situation, I was forced to keep everyone level headed. How am I supposed to do that? I was shouting. I yelled. I tried not to raise my voice unless it was to gain control of the conversation, but I did yell at them. I’ll have to remember to apologize tomorrow.

Things heated up, people were in tears and many of us wanted to just write the note saying that we cannot agree. Which we ultimately did. The judge read my note. He explained that he needed a confirmation note. We were ushered back into the small, now claustrophobic, and terribly hot room of the deliberation room.

Maybe it was guilt, but we agreed to give it one more day. I doubt it will do any good.

Day 9

I have on the warmest dress clothes I own. It is over 70 degrees outside. I have nothing else to wear for my final day (part 3). The road I would take is closed so I had to go the long way. I checked with my GPS and it said I should get there with 10 minutes to spare. I decided that was enough time to grab breakfast and some munchkins for the group. I was wrong. I called the court clerk and told her I was on my way, rushed up the stairs, and into the small room. I apologized extensively before realizing that I was not the last one there. At least there’s that, right?

Deliberation began as expected. I forced myself not to say anything right away and instead focused on being the foreman, rather than someone with an opinion. When things became heated, we all agreed to take a five minute break. At this time, I apologized to the disagreers for my raised yelling at them yesterday.

I explained to them, at some point, that I think they were wrong to have come into the deliberation room with their minds made up. We as a group were supposed to decide the facts, not individually. One of them seemed receptive, the other had shut down.

One of the jurors, a very well spoken man who could contain his temper better than I could, asked that we slowly go over every event of the incident in the effort to gain traction and move from there. Although I truly believed that these two - oh, I should mention that we managed to persuade one of them, he agreed that self defense had become a possibility, and in fact a probability which added to our side of the ratio - but I believed that these other two were not about to change their mind, it was pretty clear. And I say that because they were unwilling to offer proof to their claim. In reality, I believe it boiled down to them not wanting to be wrong.

However, this well spoken juror had a plan and I believed that if anything could work, a breakdown of everything we listened to for the past several weeks would be it. I pushed for it. It seems it was too late. People were talking over each other and it was clear that these two “didn’t want to be treated like a child” with our slow breakdown.

One person lashed out at them and I was quick to try and quell it. I failed. Arguments broke out and everything became personal attacks. My voice was not loud enough to quiet the anger and frustration in that room.

We had to write the note saying that we could not agree. Luckily, that same well spoken man and a few others asked me to include the fact that we couldn’t agree on five of the seven charges. Here, in hindsight, that was a brilliant move.

Had we left it as a general disagreement, no progress towards the ruling would have been made, but since we did, the judge agreed to rule those two charges out.

The first charge was the largest; attempted murder. We all agreed that Francis Thomas did not go into the bedroom with the intent to kill Edward Mendy.

This was where the largest part of our disagreement came from. One side argued that FT did go in to cause bodily harm but not to kill. The rest of us agreed that it either was or could possibly have been self defense or the defense of his mother. And how they couldn’t see that is beyond me, again, one of them clearly shut down whether they wanted to admit it or not.

The second was to Terroristic Threats. This was a no brainer. There was no proof of any threats.

Still, as the new foreman, it was to me to read our verdict (do you see why I was so concerned with my appearance?). I had to walk into that courtroom, look the defendant in the eyes, look at his mother in the eyes, and try to hide my personal sense of failure for not ruling on the other five.

I looked to the judge. He asked me what charges we did agree upon. “Your honor, we have come to an agreement on count one; Attempted Murder” Now I was focused on the page, but after walking out at the end of the day I came across our remaining alternative who said that when I said that, the defence lawyer pumped his fist in victory. Continuing, I then told the judge “and on the sixth count of Terroristic Threats.”

“On the first count, how did the jury decide?”

“Our verdict is Not Guilty.” We all heard the defendant’s mother break into tears. I looked over and almost lost my own composure. I went back to focus on the pages in my hand. The judge them polled all of us to confirm our ruling. When we all agreed, not guilty, he moved onto the sixth count. I noticed that after I read “Not Guilty,” he didn’t poll us. I imagine the court was satisfied regardless.

We were then dismissed and I had drinks with two of the jurors. One of them, he may have been the youngest of us, I knew was a very passionate man towards this case. he had that younger sense of righteousness that I admittedly have lost. At times his overly sense of justice irked me. When I, as foreman, was trying to gain control of circular arguments or disputes, he would attack me to let them finish. His reasoning was sound, I agree. I imagine he felt as I did; that a ratio of 10 to 2 would make our pushing the disagreers to change their mind would make it seem like an attack and by my trying to quiet them I was, in essence, invalidating them and taking away their right to voice their opinion. He was right, and I was not trying to do that. My only goal was to keep people from the point of name-calling and yelling, that we reached yesterday. I feel I was largely successful today, mostly because it only took us half the day to decide that nothing else was going to change.

The other juror only had coffee. I had a fondness for her as we had walked with each other to the parking lot down down the road and would vent some frustrations between each other. It was fitting to sit there with her and vent one last time before agreeing that since the largest charge of attempted murder was solved, if the case wasn’t entirely dismissed and would go to retrial, the leg work was done to find the defendant not guilty on the remaining charges.

I had not expected all of this to happen. I did not expect to walk away with a new cluster of friends. I certainly wasn’t expecting to be surrounded by so many strong emotions from my fellow jurors. This truly was an experience - and one I hope everyone has at least once in their life.

#jury duty #state vs francis thomas

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