Helios Beginnings (The Helios Chronicles #0.5)

by Tawa M. Witko

  “Mr. Harrison,” Mr. Wright said loudly, trying to get his client’s attention.

  Andrew stared at him blankly. Mr. Wright leaned back in his chair and set his pen on top of the notepad on the table. Mr. Wright took a moment to really look at his client. It was clear that he hadn’t showered in almost a week, probably much longer and his hair was a disheveled mess. The black eye he had was starting to clear up but that wasn’t what struck him. It was his eyes themselves. They were void of all light. He gave the impression of a hallow man.

  “What can you tell me about the alleged rape?” Mr. Wright finally asked authoritatively.

  Andrew shrugged and when Mr. Wright’s eyes narrowed at him he started breathing in deeply. Andrew closed his eyes and tried to remember anything. He really didn’t know much about what had happened. He was starting to gather bits and pieces about what transpired, but it was all still hazy and in lieu of his severe withdrawal symptoms, he was having trouble determining what was real and what wasn’t.

  “I can’t defend you if you don’t help me,” Mr. Wright said in a more caring tone. When Andrew opened his eyes to look at him he continued. “Whatever you say to me is bound by attorney client privilege which means I can’t tell anyone what you say, but I need to know what transpired that evening.”

  “I don’t remember,” Andrew said, shaking his head, trying to stop the pounding in his skull. “I... I was at a party. I was high and I don’t know. I fucked some girl.”

  He pinched his eyes shut even tighter, willing himself to remember something, anything about that night. At this point he just wished that he could have some kind of clarity about what had happened. He remembered driving to Palmdale with Tyler. He remembered getting high. He remembered the girl. She had blond hair and he remembered that they had sex but that was the extent of it.

  “Did she tell you how old she was?”

  Andrew shrugged again, “Yes, no... Fuck, I don’t know.” Andrew dropped his head on the table and started tugging on his hair. “You should ask Tyler. He was there. Maybe he remembers more,” Andrew mumbled into his hands.

  “Tyler…” there was a shuffling of papers and then, “Miller?’

  Andrew shrugged. He didn’t know Tyler’s last name. Andrew had never asked and Tyler hadn’t volunteered it.

  “No one has been able to locate him,” Mr. Wright said as he watched his client who was in obvious agony.

  “I'm really sick, man,” Andrew said as he glanced up at Mr. Wright. “I need... something,” Andrew finished, pleading with his eyes, hoping that Mr. Wright understood without him having to ask for it.

  Mr. Wright let out a sigh. “I can’t help you with that.”

  “Please,” Andrew said, licking his chapped lips.

  Mr. Wright stood and motioned toward the guard that he was done. When he had departed, the guard came to Andrew and stood him up, taking him back to his cell. The sound of the doors closing intensified the pounding in his head. He lay down on the uncomfortable mattress and closed his eyes, hoping this nightmare would end shortly.

  ~*~

  The past week had been one of the worst weeks of Andrew’s life, which said a lot considering what he had already been through in his young life. The nastiest of his withdrawal symptoms had indeed ended a week ago but the cold sweats and body aches had continued for another week. Unfortunately, they had to wrap his arm because he had scratched the area raw and gotten an infection. Once the haze of the drugs was out of his system his memory started to return regarding that dreadful night in Palmdale, but the memories were still quite blurred and did not bear him in a good light. He wanted desperately to believe that the girl, who he remembered was named Ashley, had told him she was eighteen. His lawyer said it would make a difference but Andrew really couldn’t remember if she did or didn't say it. Andrew sighed as he thought about his lawyer. Mr. Wright was very frustrated with him but there wasn’t much Andrew could do about it. He was a junkie. What did he expect?

  Andrew continued to stare at his reflection in the small plastic mirror in his cell. He was wearing a pair of Levi’s and a button down shirt that his lawyer had brought for him to wear. Mr. Wright had also asked him to shower and cleanup before court today, which Andrew had done as best as he could. He ran his fingers along his jaw feeling the stubble there. He wasn’t able to shave very well because his hands kept twitching. The doctor said that was normal and that it would go away eventually. The sooner the better as far as Andrew was concerned.

  “Harrison, it’s time,” the guard announced as his cell door opened.

  Central booking was not very far from the courthouse so it didn’t take long to get there. As they walked Andrew into the courthouse, he could see the man that he had fought with, Ashley’s father. The man narrowed his eyes at Andrew and looked as if he was ready to go at it again, but instead he squeezed his arm around the woman who was crying next to him. Andrew sighed, knowing that must be Ashley’s mother. They brought Andrew to the front of the courthouse and set him down at the table near his attorney before undoing his handcuffs.

  “Please rise,” the bailiff bellowed.

  Andrew stood along with everyone else. His heart was pounding as the judge was introduced. His charges were read off to him and then he was asked to sit as one after one, people came up and testified, including the father who indicated that Ashley was upset when she got home, which was why he knew something had happened. Andrew didn’t remember it that way. What he did remember was she seemed to like what was happening and that she had come on to him. At least that’s what he thought but there was no way to actually know since it was all too fuzzy to remember beyond a reasonable doubt. Soon the door opened and a young girl walked through. She seemed familiar to Andrew but then again she didn’t. She was called to the stand where she glanced towards Andrew and then quickly averted her eyes.

  “Is that her?” he asked softly.

  “Yes,” Mr. Wright replied.

  “It can’t be!”

  “Please state your name for the court.”

  “Ashley Shapiro.”

  Andrew’s stomach churned as the realization hit him. She really was just a kid. Her long, blond hair was pulled into a braid and she was wearing a flowered dress. She had no make-up on and looked like she was ready to go to church. As she raised her hand to swear on the bible, Andrew completely lost it. He turned to the side of the table and started violently heaving. Anything that was inside of him was now out and on the floor. His attorney touched his back, clearly in shock, and the girl on the stand immediately started to cry. There was a great deal of commotion in the courtroom as the guards quickly escorted Andrew out of there. Andrew could hear the judge banging his gavel on the wooden stand as he ordered an immediate recess.

  ~*~

  The trial had only lasted two days and the jury deliberated for less than four hours before they came back with a guilty verdict. Not that Andrew could blame them; he was eight years older than the girl who had come into court looking sweet and innocent. After the recess, her father refused to allow her to testify saying that he wasn’t about to traumatize her any further. When Andrew heard that, he wanted to hurl all over again. He was starting to believe that maybe he had raped her. Why else would she be traumatized?

  Andrew wished that he could blame his attorney for his conviction but in reality his attorney did the best he could with what Andrew had given him, which was not much. Andrew recognized that he was absolutely useless in regards to his defense. His memory was sketchy at best and he struggled with whether what he did remember were actual events or what he wanted the events to be. No, Andrew knew that he had no one to blame for his conviction but himself.

  Today would be the sentencing hearing and he was once again sitting next to his attorney, Mr. Wright, waiting for the judge to arrive. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ashley’s father sitting with his arms crossed over his chest, eyeing him as if he wanted Andrew dead. If he only knew that Andrew wished for that very thing
as well. He would welcome his departure from this Earth. Soon the judge walked in. Everyone stood up as he was introduced and then sat back down. The judge glanced at his papers and then looked over at Andrew. There was no hiding the anger and disgust on his face. This would not be good.

  “Andrew Thomas Harrison, please rise.”

  Andrew stood up and took several deep breaths, preparing himself for the worst. Of course, there was no way to know what the worst would actually entail, but he assumed it would involve time in prison.

  “Having been convicted of felony statutory rape you are hereby sentenced to the maximum allowed by law, four years in the state penitentiary. For the crime of aggravated assault you are sentenced to two years in the state penitentiary. Both sentences are to run consecutively without the possibility of parole. Upon release you will be mandated to five years of probation and will register in any county you reside in for more than three days as a sex offender.”

  The judge set the paper down that he was reading from and glared at Andrew.

  “Mr. Harrison, I only wish the laws were more stringent in this country as I would prefer to have someone like you locked up for good.” He pounded the gavel on his podium, “Court adjourned.”

  Andrew’s knees buckled and his heart felt as if it had actually stopped beating for a few seconds. He gasped for air not able to push any inside his lungs. Mr. Wright sighed and touched Andrew’s shoulder.

  “This can’t be happening,” Andrew mumbled as one of the guards started directing him out of the courthouse. “This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening,” he continued to mumble as the guards took him away.

  III

  A Prison Tale

  LA County Jail

  “Mmmm... need a friend?” A gruff voice hissed from the cell as Andrew passed by it.

  Andrew swallowed thickly as he quickly shook his head no. The guard walking by his side brought his nightstick against the bars and the noise from the cell quieted. Andrew continued to walk down a long corridor with cells on both sides of him. All the doors were closed since it was lights out time. Unfortunately for Andrew, there had been an issue with his transport and he didn’t arrive at county until a short time ago. He continued to look forward, trying to take in his surroundings out of the corner of his eyes. The guard nudged his back with the nightstick and Andrew was forced to walk up a flight of stairs. He hesitated when they reached an open cell door and the guard forcefully shoved him inside. He proceeded to tell Andrew the basics, but Andrew could barely hear him over the beating of his heart. His eyes darted all around the small enclosure. There was a small bed that looked like a cot, a toilet, and sink; that was pretty much it. Andrew sat, defeated, on the bed and brought his hand to his right arm, scratching along the tracks there. He needed a fix real bad. It had already been a month since he had last used. The initial withdrawals were gone, but the need hadn’t left him. The guard stepped out and motioned for them to close the cell. The loud clank of the door shutting and locking made his stomach turn. His hand covered his mouth, but he couldn’t stop it and found himself hurling into the disgusting toilet, as he heard laughter echoing in the surrounding darkness.

  The next morning he awoke to the gates of his cell opening. He sat up, exhausted. He had slept horribly. It seemed he woke every hour to hurl in to the toilet. He heard yelling outside and recognized his number being called. He quickly rose from his bed and followed the line of people, being careful not to make eye contact with anyone. His only thought was that if he avoided everyone he would be okay. He could survive this sentence. He had survived much worse.

  He heard people making comments but he ignored it all. The line finally stopped when they got to a large room with several rows of tables in it and a counter where people were serving food. When he was given his plate he stared down at it, momentarily questioning whether the county was required to serve them actual food since what was on his plate looked disgusting!

  “Hey, pretty boy, sit here!”

  Andrew shook his head and continued walking, looking for a place to sit and eat. He didn’t know who to trust, so he decided it was better not to say anything to anyone until he could learn the layout and who needed to be avoided at all costs.

  “Come on, sweet thing, let me be your friend,” another person said as he walked by.

  Andrew once again shook his head. He was starting to have serious concerns that everyone in there wanted to ‘have him’ sexually. This was not going to be as easy as he thought it would be. He continued walking until he found a table with only a few people at it and reluctantly took a seat. The men at the table stared at him but didn’t say anything, thankfully. He looked at the so-called-food on his tray, debating whether he should eat it or not. If he did, he reasoned that he would definitely throw up again. His hand instinctually went back to his left forearm, running up and down. He was desperate for another hit. He reasoned that he could handle prison so much better if he were high. He looked back down at what he was supposed to eat and picked up the slice of bread. He thought that should be safe to eat. It’s hard to mess up bread.

  “You get used to it,” someone said as they sat down.

  Andrew looked up and saw that a man who appeared to be in his early thirties was now conveniently sitting across from him. The man had that creep factor about him that put Andrew on alert. It was something he’d seen many times before when he lived on the streets. This man was dangerous. He was smirking at Andrew as if he knew some great secret.

  “My name’s Marcus. What’s yours?”

  “Andrew.”

  “What’d you do to get in here?” Marcus asked casually.

  Andrew shrugged his shoulders and continued to nibble on the slice of bread. Marcus talked to Andrew but Andrew didn’t respond, not a single word, not even a gesture. Andrew didn’t attempt to eat anything but the bread. He did however move the other food around, just to have something to do while he was ignoring Marcus. Once the guards indicated that meal time was done, Andrew darted out of his seat with a quickness he didn’t believe he was capable of.

  Everyone made their way to the yard and once there, Andrew was able to successfully place himself away from everyone else. When they were finally allowed back into their cells, he felt immense relief. That was until he heard someone step inside.

  “Everyone needs a friend. I could be that to you,” Marcus said smoothly.

  Andrew started to say something, but decided that just ignoring him was the best option. He told himself over and over ‘ignore him unless he touches you and then fight like your life depends on it’. Marcus stepped further inside the cell, bringing his body close to Andrew’s, close enough that he could feel his heavy breath.

  “You have got to be the prettiest thing to come through here in ages!” He hissed, causing Andrew’s skin to crawl.

  Without hesitation, Andrew drew his arm back and punched Marcus several times in the gut, catching him off-guard. Andrew hit him over and over as if Marcus were his own personal punching bag. He didn’t stop until the guards finally stormed inside the cell and pulled him away. Marcus fell to the ground writhing in pain. The huge guard who grabbed Andrew looked between him and Marcus, and while Andrew couldn’t be sure, he thought the guard may have grinned just before he drug him out of the cell. Another guard grabbed him and forcefully twisted his hands behind his back. Andrew felt the handcuffs placed on him.

  “Are you trying to be a big man, Harrison?” The guard seethed.

  “No, he…”

  “Shut the fuck up,” the guard replied as he shoved his nightstick into Andrew’s back.

  Andrew did just that. He shut up. The guard took him down another long hallway. The silence was only magnified by the bleak, beige walls and sharp lighting overhead. There was a guard standing duty that approached the two of them. He ignored Andrew and directed his attention to his fellow guard.

  “How long?”

  “I think a week ought to do it.”

  The other ma
n nodded as the heavy steel door opened and Andrew was released from his handcuffs. The guard pushed him inside and slammed the door shut. The solitary confinement cell was dark. There was only a sliver of light that escaped from underneath the door, but that was it. Andrew should have been frightened, but he wasn’t. He’d been in worse situations and at least now he would be safe. Well, safe for at least week. Unfortunately, Andrew knew without a doubt that he hadn’t heard the last from Marcus.

  ~*~

  “Harrison!”

  Andrew leaned back against the fence, bracing himself for what would happen next. As expected he was pulled up by his shirt. At that he immediately started swinging his fists, landing a hit square on Marcus’ jaw. Unfortunately, that allowed Jack access to his gut which he proceeded to pound. Marcus and Jack had been after Andrew since he arrived a few months ago, but usually they waited until they were more isolated before attacking him. Andrew had been able to fight them off so far, but sooner or later he feared they would have what they wanted from him. There was a loud crash against the fence above Andrew’s head and then a nightstick hit Jack in the side, bringing him down while another guard positioned his nightstick around Marcus’ neck, pulling him into a choke hold.

  “Is there a problem boys?” Guard Reeves asked authoritatively.

  “Of course not,” Marcus replied smiling widely. “We were just messing around.”

  Guard Reeves released his hold on Marcus. Marcus grinned and then eyed Jack as they both started walking away.