I had the oddest feeling of fear as I entered the courtroom. He was guilty, there was evidence, plenty of it, so why was I so apprehensive? My lawyer told me it was a no-brainer, a slam dunk, or some other ridiculous phrase that seemed to belittle my case. I am sure it seemed trivial to him, but he was a man and don’t all men have that mentality? That stick together against women group where we as women are a subspecies to be used?
As I sat down beside my attorney, his overpowering aftershave wafting around the new suit my fee probably paid for, I noticed the air of confidence and fake smile flashed to the ladies in the jury box. Maybe that is what it will take to convict my attacker. I tried to relax, sitting back in my chair, only to stiffen as the perpetrator was brought in. Handcuffs taken off, his stare at me as if a warning, made me suddenly shiver. I looked away, trying to control my nerves. He was guilty, there was undeniable evidence; but still, as I glanced around seeing only men in authority and too few women in the jury, I was once again chilled.