Flawed / Perfect

“I am on your side, Bos— Judge Crevan,” I quickly correct myself. “And I don’t think you have anything to worry about, with my effect on people. I am not a motivator. I couldn’t lead anyone even if I tried. I just want to be normal. I want to fit in. I want to be with my friends I want to go home. I don’t want anybody to build me up as anything that I’m not,” I say, tears in my eyes. “You know I love Art so much. I love being a part of your family. I would never do anything to deliberately hurt you both. I am sorry that I have embarrassed you, and I am sorry that I have put you in this position, but I just couldn’t do it to the old man. I just couldn’t let him be punished for something I did.”

“Who?” he says, confused.

“Clayton Byrne. The Flawed man.”

“But didn’t anyone tell you? He died, Celestine. He died in the hospital last night. I told you that he wouldn’t live to see punishment.”

“Oh.” I exhale shakily. Was it all in vain?

“His family shouldn’t have been in court.” He continues pacing. “I wouldn’t have allowed it. It must have been Sanchez. She’s playing a game, and Jackson is falling for it. She’s been against me for some time, but I see she’s upped it now. This is a whole new level.”

Sweat breaks out on his brow. I have never seen that before, not even on the hottest day as he stood over his barbecue. His hair, which has come undone from its blow-dry, is starting to stick to the beads of sweat on his forehead. He stops pacing and looks at me, desperate, close to my face.

“Would you recant, Celestine?”

“What?”

“We can still swing this. It will be difficult, but Pia can do it. A reality show. She can follow you round, show the country how perfect you are. And the world. You know there are other countries contemplating adopting our system? They have been watching us for a while. I could be president of The Global Guild. I’m going to speak about it in Brussels this month. Celestine, this couldn’t be worse timing.” He looks at me again, wild, desperate, intense. Terrifying. Art is gone from any of this man. I no longer see the face I love in him. “Would you recant?”

“I … I … I can’t.” I can’t go back in there and take back what I said. It would be completely illogical. Who would trust me?

I once took my lead from Bosco. I thought that he knew everything, that he was perfect, but I’m surprised by what I see right now, this panicking, conniving man, desperate to maintain his sliding power. He is clutching at straws that are so delicate they will disintegrate upon his touch, and he is using me in the centre of all this. Granddad was right.

“I can’t. I’m sorry,” I say gently. “Could you please let me explain this to Art myself?”

His face hardens, and I brace myself for another shout, but instead he is so quiet I have to strain my ear to hear, which, of course, is worse. It’s almost a hiss.

“If you think I will let my son go anywhere near you ever again, you are delusional. Whether this court had proved you Flawed or not, I had no intention of letting you ever set foot near him again, and particularly not now, now that you are Flawed, Celestine North, Flawed to the very bone.”

And on that he turns and leaves, his red robe flicking up and swishing with him. He slams the door closed.

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A few minutes later Tina opens the door, with a new female guard. “They’re ready for you now.” Perhaps thinking of her daughter then, she softens her tone. “This is June.”

June speaks up. “Bark is heating up your weld, Flawed, gonna make it nice and hot for your pretty little skin.”

I look at Tina in horror and notice Tina in turn is looking at June in anger. I stop walking, terrified to go any further, but they pull me along.

“Come on, keep walking,” Tina whispers.

I feel my legs weaken, I crumple, and Tina pulls me up.

“You’re not being branded yet, Celestine. They have to name your flaw first.”

I allow them to pull me through the maze of corridors. I move limply with them, like a rag doll. We stop at a new door. Perhaps they took me out through it before. I can’t remember, I was so stunned.

Tina looks at me. “Ready?”

“No.”

The door opens and the place explodes.

The first person I see is Carrick, who’s standing in the same place at the back of the room. He stands up straighter when he sees me, turns his body in my direction, and almost follows me with it as I make my way to my seat. I sense his new-found respect for me; there will be no back to my cell wall tonight.

The room is hot and stuffy. I can smell sweat and excitement, my life the entertainment of others. I see one woman offer a bag of candy to the man beside her. They ram them into their mouths as they watch me pass, eyeing me up and down as if I can’t see them.

I take my seat beside Mr Berry.

“What’s happening?” I ask him, and he shrugs, looking just as confused as I am.

“Ms Celestine North, please stand,” Crevan says.

I stand, my legs shaky beneath me. My mum clings to my dad. My granddad’s cap is in his hand as he clutches it tightly, his knuckles white.

I stand alone in the courtroom and realise this is how it will be for the rest of my life, standing alone, branded Flawed for ever because of one act.

I hear doors burst open, and the three judges look up.

“Don’t do this,” a voice shouts from the door.

It’s Art. I turn around. The disguise is gone.

“Art,” I say to him, afraid, and hear the quiver in my voice.

“Order in the court,” Judge Crevan says, banging his gavel.

“Don’t do this to her!” he yells again.

“Restrain him,” Crevan says, looking down, moving his paperwork around, nervously.

Two members of security grab his arms, and he yells and struggles as they pull him from the room. I look away, turn to the front, eyes back to the ground.

“Shall I continue?” Judge Sanchez asks Crevan in her smooth voice, all honey and calm.

“No!” he snaps. “Celestine North,” he says, looking up at me, eyes wild and bloodshot. He means business now. “Your so-called bravery in court suggests you wish to be a poster girl, and we don’t take poster girls lightly. Not when the message you portray is dangerous to society. We see you as a poison that is prepared to inflict itself on our good and proper society. So take this to the people, poster girl.

“It is rare for any accused to receive more than one branding, but if you are to be looked at and adored by some in society, then let them see your flaws wherever they look. We must also take into account the seriousness of your actions, that they were carried out publicly, with an audience. This was not a private event that hurt a few. It was public and has become even more so. You have attracted the world’s attention,Ms North, and for that we must send a message. I will now name your brands.”

Brands?

He pauses and the room is so silent I’m sure everyone can hear my heartbeat.

“For stealing from society, you will be branded on your right hand. Whenever you go to shake the hands of any decent people in society, they will know of your theft.”

People start to talk, thinking he’s finished, but as he continues, they silence themselves.

“For your bad judgement, your right temple.”