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Creative Writing The County Courthouse

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					Creative Writing: The County Courthouse

When we are young, most of us are somewhat naive. We are inherently
taught that
good will always triumph over evil. A courthouse is the forum where
evil should
be dealt with. But, in reality, this is seldom the case.

The county courthouse looks like a typical courthouse. The courthouse
itself
looks like a place where justice is served. It is a Romanesque
building, three
stories high, with large pillars in the front. Ivy grows up one side of
the
building. The green grass in the courtyard is immaculately kept. The
United
States flag flies high above the building. Etched in stone on the front
wall of
the courthouse are the words" truth, justice, and liberty." This is a
place
where one should feel truly safe.

As I walk inside the cold and quiet building, a young woman is talking
with the
circuit court clerk. She is very innocent looking, with blond hair and
a petite
figure. She seems to be getting more upset by the second. The young
lady finally
erupts, yelling and almost crying. Her ex-husband has not paid her
child support
in a month, and she cannot buy diapers for her baby. The clerk tells
her that
nobody can do anything about it until he is six months behind in his
support.
After five more minutes of intense arguing, the young lady, now
engulfed in
tears, leaves. The clerk shrugs and turns around.

The building seems colder upstairs. There almost seems to be a dampness
in the
air. Down a corridor there are empty offices and paintings of important
looking
people. I recognize two of them as Washington and Jefferson. In between
them is
a copy of the constitution. As I read it I chuckle, and wonder if this
government is really what they had in mind.

Farther down the hall I hear   voices. The general court is in session.
Inside the
courtroom, a scruffy-looking   man is in front of the judge. He has been
charged
with public intoxication and   resisting arrest. He does not seem
nervous; he has
probably done this before. I   assume he will be put in jail for a little
while,
at the least. The judge tells the man that he does not want to see him
in court
again. The man assures the judge that he will not be back. With the
bang of a
gavel, the judge gives him a five dollar fine, plus court costs. The
man
stumbles out of the courtroom already looking half drunk again.

As I walk out of the courtroom, the courthouse seems colder than ever.
This is
not a place where truth, justice, and liberty prevail. It is a place of
tragedy.
A place where innocent people suffer because of the system, and where
guilty
people walk free because of it.