Trial : Part 3

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***Neko's POV***

"The prosecution calls Max Wallace to the witness stand."

Max claps Milo on the shoulder as he boldly stands and passes Marla and Steve.

Max swears in and sits down. He straightens his tie and folds his hand on the edge in front of him.

"You and Milo Evans are close. Tell me about him." The prosecutor ushers.

"I met Milo when we were four. God, what a great day. I met my best friend. Milo and I clicked. He liked what I did and vice versa. We shared milks, cookies, secrets and Natalie Bennett. All through grade school, we stayed friends. I asked Mom and Dad if Milo could spend the night over. They always said yes. Once in a while his parents would come over, bringing Milo. But, he wasn't allowed to stay. When I asked why, they always had an excuse. They said things like he didn't clean his room, had unfinished homework or he had misbehaved. Even at 5, 6 and 7, I knew they were lying. Being a naive child, I figured they just liked him so much, they didn't want him to be away from them. Boy was I wrong. It started in junior high. I noticed my best friend was quieter than normal. At first, he just got quiet around strangers. Soon, he just didn't want to talk at all. He started struggling in reading, writing and any comprehensive subject. I asked him why. He said he thought he might have dyslexia. He began to skip eating in lieu of staring off into space. I didn't get it. The school food was terrifying, but we mostly ate it." Max takes a breath with a chuckle.

"Continue." The prosecutor requests as he hides his own chuckle.

"He started coming to school, fully dressed. It would be 85 degrees and he wore long pants and long sleeves. At first, I thought nothing of it. But, in gym class, we had to change in the locker rooms. I started noticing bruises. Some were old and fading. Others were painfully apparent. Cascading wounds the size and shapes of fists and boots littered my best friend's flesh. I wanted to ask, but I didn't. Then there were times when he would get excruciating headaches in class. He would lay his head down and I could hear the whimpers. Those days were hard. He refused to go to the nurse. He winced and tried to stay still instead. Many times, those headaches were accompanied by little welts or small lumps that looked as though he had hit his head on a hard surface. I asked if he was okay. But, I never pressed too hard. Milo got quieter if we pressed. I didn't want to lose my best friend. His weight started declining. His clothes fit more loosely. I started noticing that he had rather worn clothes. I figured maybe his parents weren't as well off as my family. I didn't want Milo to feel out of place, so I didn't comment. But, then Neko went to Hawaii. Milo would come to school depressed. His head hurt more often, bags were a common feature under his eyes. He looked tired and not just from exhaustion. He looked like he had given up on life. Neko would show up and my Bean would come back to me. For days at a time, he was floating on clouds. He started carrying his stuff to school and asking me to hide it from his parents. I did question him then. He admitted that Marla and Steve said he didn't deserve nice things. That he didn't deserve to breathe. That his sister should be here and he should have died that night. Can you imagine, telling a child that you chose to be your kid, he isn't as valuable as the one that passed away? It gradually got worse until the days in between fresh marks were less. The days he was depressed were more often. I started asking questions, a lot of them. Milo either denied, made excuses or got extremely defensive. In the end I tried not push his buttons. He was being terrorized at home. I didn't want him to feel unsafe at school." Max takes a sip of water and inhales deeply.

"Lux and Natalie stated that you got upset with Milo the days proceeding the sleepover. Tell us what went on in your mind." The prosecutor instructs.

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