Kathrine stood at the front of the mock courtroom.
When she started studying law, she was confident in her capabilities. But as time passed by, the pressure and stress were starting to catch up to her.
She had no intention of giving up of course, this was her dream from the get-go. But sometimes, one would just feel burned out from everything.
And at this moment, she was once again experiencing it. She felt like what she had was not enough.
Her heart was pounding so hard it was difficult to breathe.
In her hands were the notes she had written and rewritten over the past three days.
They were smudged from all the times her hands had sweated during practice. Her classmates sat behind her, watching, whispering. Some of them looked bored. Others looked like they were waiting for her to fail.
Of course, that would not be the case, they were simply whispering with one another about how they felt or how they thought their own tasks would go. Kathrine's nerves were simply too agitated so she felt like they were whispering about her.
The professor, who was acting as the judge, gave a small nod.
"You may begin, Miss Oscar."
She forced her feet to move forward.
The courtroom was just a classroom made to look real, but today, it felt like the whole world. Her shoes clicked against the floor, echoing louder than she expected. Every step felt like it would give her away, how nervous she was, how scared she felt inside.
Had she always been like this?
No, she was confident and had a lot of belief in herself.
Why is she like this today, then?
She didn't know.
It was laughable, but she had no idea why she became so nervous today.
Maybe because of a lack of sleep?
Or maybe the overwhelming amount of things she needed to memorize and understand?
She really didn't know!
"Your Honor... and members of the jury..." she began, her voice trembling.
She could hear it shake, even though she tried to speak clearly.
She paused, trying to remember the next part.
She swallowed hard as she also felt her throat running dry as if she had already spoken a lot, even though they were merely seven words.
The words were there, but they wouldn't come out. She glanced down at her notes, but the letters blurred for a second, like someone had erased her memory.
Behind her, the other student acting as the defense attorney waited calmly, his hands folded. He had always spoken with ease in class. He made everything look easy. Today was no different.
He was one of the top students, and she felt even more pressured from his stare as if he was judging her and was waiting for her to make a mistake.
Obviously, the top student was just doing what he needed to do. He was not waiting for anyone to make mistakes. He was simply there to be a defense attorney. Focusing on the task given to him.
Kathrine forced herself to breathe.
She tried to calm down, but the lack of sleep and the times she barely ate were catching up. She felt like collapsing at this moment.
"The prosecution will show that the defendant's actions were not only planned but carried out with full awareness... and with the intention to harm the victim."
That sounded right.
'Why does it seem like the air around here is thinning?' she wondered.
She kept going, reading one sentence at a time, but her voice stayed flat. It sounded like she was just trying to get through it, not like she believed in what she was saying.
She looked down at her notes again. Her hands continued shaking.
The words on the page started to blur, like they were melting into each other. She blinked hard, but it didn't help much.
The room was too quiet.
So quiet that it made her more nervous. She could hear someone flipping a notebook. Another student moved in their seat. Someone cleared their throat, and the sound felt sharp, like it cut through the silence.
Kathrine looked up at the judge, her professor, but only for a second. The professor's eyes were focused on her, waiting. Kathrine quickly looked back down.
Her throat felt tight, it was becoming harder to swallow.
"Um… we will… we will present… evidence," she said.
Her voice shook a little, "There are, um, text messages…"
She paused, trying to think of the next part. Her mind was blank. She stared at the paper, but the words didn't make sense anymore.
She tried again.
"Messages that the… the defendant sent… before the… the thing happened."
She frowned.
"Before the incident," she corrected herself, almost in a whisper.
Her heart was pounding. Her palms felt sweatier. She didn't know if anyone could even hear her. She didn't even know if she could hear herself, she just knew that she was reciting what she had memorized, albeit a bit differently because the words seemed to become jumbled.
"We'll also show that… that he… bought something. A weapon."
She winced, "I mean… he bought the weapon… earlier."
It felt like every sentence took a huge effort.
Her thoughts were messy, and her words didn't sound like how she had practiced them last night.
And the worst part was, she knew it.
She could feel her professor watching. She could feel her classmates losing interest. But she kept going, one line at a time, voice low and stiff, hoping it would just be over soon.
"Text messages sent by the, um, by the defendant… days before… the event."
Her hands tightened on the paper, wrinkling it.
"These messages… they show… they show that… he was angry."
She couldn't breathe properly. Her chest felt heavy.
She was reciting, not speaking. The passion she had felt while practicing in her room was gone. It felt like someone else was talking, someone who didn't care about the case at all.
Even though this was supposed to be treated as a real case.
When she finished and returned to her seat, her legs felt like jelly. She could barely sit straight. Her professor made a note on a clipboard and didn't look up.
Her heart sank.