Nightmare. Schmightmare.

It was going to be a dreadful day, but little did we know just how dreadful of a day it would be. Despite the dread we were dreading, we were all going to be a bit relieved once the verdict was announced. Of course we hoped for and expected a guilty verdict with life sentencing (no chance of parole) or the death sentence, which it all seemed an easy way out for him.

The court room looked like a pile of leeches, everyone slithering around wanting the ending to this terrible story, just sucking the air out of the place. Every media man on earth was there and the population that didn't show up was glued to their television, from the busy, multi-tasking twenty year olds to the retired, hard of hearing grandparents. The family, the poor family. It's comparable to when that lucky son of a b... wins the lottery every stinking person they have ever encountered comes crawling out of the closet to just to say hi and put on a show of how needy they are... same thing. Everyone the family knew came to "support" but it only caused a frenzy. The Whitten family didn't need a frenzy. They needed justice... and frankly they needed the kind of justice that the United States Court System couldn't deliver... only God could. And instead of cursing this man on trail, everyone should be praying for him. He's going to get what's coming, sooner or later.

My father was in the zone today, in fact he has been in zone for the last several months as this was and needed to be the only case, the only thing he put his attention on. The cameras and uproars in the court room never phased him and my mother never attended the trail until today.

I sat back as my job wouldn't come until later wondering how these bastards that call themselves lawyers, went to Harvard Law, raised by honest, hard-working folks could defend this creature. You almost hate to call him a man, because he's clearly not the kind of man you think of when you hear the word "man"... whether you think of a pervert whistling at you as you walk by feeling the horniness radiating from him or you think of a man who loves unconditionally, patient with gentle hands. Well this creature, this male isn't either and certainly is not nor never will be the latter of the two.

The court room was brought to silence. Everyone stilled. The last day of the trial begin and each side made their point to the 12 jury members so they could decide the fate of this trial, this creature, all of the hard work, and provide partial justice. The judge never seemed bored as you might imagine during a trial this lengthy but instead seemed like God, high and mighty on His throne. God nodded to each side, seemed oddly fair in a situation that no one else could be, and really took in all the evidence and witnesses to help regulate what when on and what was decided. God? Do you think that God ever sits in a court room to see how we humans are managing the good and evil? Whether He is physically sitting in a court room or not, I believe He does check in on us to see how we do handle the good and evil of this world.

The closing arguments were complete opposite in approach, which one may expect. The defense team went for sympathy, pleaded insanity for his client, talked about whatever good he had managed to do during his short lifetime and somehow tried to show how the evidence just didn't add up, but my dad, the prosecutor, attacked the man, shedding his layers to reveal his raw, disgusting nature, not that it was hard to reveal. He made a chilling closing argument that made anyone want to scream, "GUILTY. GUILTY. TO THE DEATH CHAIR." The most upsetting, but convicting evidence of all were the pictures and videotapes that were shown privately to the jurors as it was crucial for media not to get ahold of or anyone for that matter. The Whitten's were given the option to see it, which baffles me, but Mr. and Mrs. Whitten choose not to and requested the tapes be burned after the trail. I don't think the request was granted but I believe the family was assured all the evidence would be secured.

The Whitten's set right behind my father, with the rest of the world behind them. The day was long with an hour break, call it a lunch a break, then a few more hours to fight. Around four o'clock it came time for the jury to deliberate. Sometimes this can take days but in our case, two hours tops. My job has now begun.

I was in charge of reading the final verdict and with much relief I was able to read guilty. Really no surprise to me, but the rest of the world needed to hear it. Not the Whitten family and not my family, as we knew what the outcome would be and it would never take back this horrific crime, but the rest of the world, they did. They needed it.

I suspect if for some odd reason my dad had failed, and this person was set free, Mr. Whitten wouldn't have let his freedom last long. He would have put an end to it, to his life.

The courtroom become unmanageable as the outcries and profanity became so loud they would pierce your soul although they were only aimed at one soul and that soul might as well be dead. He had none. He was cuffed around the ankles and they added chains to his cuffs, both top and bottom. He had no reaction through the trial and just gave a sly smile when the guilty verdict was read. It made you want to puke or just beat the life out of him. Maybe that's what we should have done, one by one, take our turns. All though the jurors spared his life, he had no chance of parole. He would be in the most secured prison in the world and not allowed a single visitor. He would live in a black hole. The jurors explained they felt like he should live with what he did, not try to be rehabilitated as they thought his chance were one out of the rest of the population and felt like the death sentence was an easy way out. The family thanked my father and left the courtroom through a back exit with a car ready. My father had no choice but to give a few words to the media and they were short and brief then we left as well.

After a long day and stress-filled half of a year, we were silent in the car, but happy. Dad's phone rang more than a help hot line, but it wasn't until the same number called a few times back to back when he thought it may be best to answer. Panic overtook his face. He became pale and sweaty and just kept saying, "Yes sir, Yes sir, I understand." A life sentence without parole frees us from retaliation fear, but we should have been smarter with this case. This fear we have had in the past had now became a reality and caused a physical reaction, not just an emotion. Somehow unexplained at the time, the guilty monster was able to free himself from the transporting and was hiding. He was back to his old games already. And his favorite we have found out is Hide and Seek.

We were immediately taken to a safe house that reminded me oddly of my dad's parents house they had lived in during my childhood. From the front it looks like a simple one-story, cute and quaint home, then the one story magically turns into a two story as it has been built on a rather large slope. The neat thing about this house it your upstairs has your main headquarters including the kitchen, and your downstairs consist of a large master and a few extra small rooms that could be offices, nurseries, or large walk-in closets. Their is a bottom and top deck which makes the master have a cabin feel as wood surrounds you from all angles, especially with the trees sprinkled throughout the back. The house helped me feel comforted as it brought back memories. That comfort wouldn't last long as a message was found letting the media and police know, He was free. He wasn't going to let some suited, grey haired man put him in prison for life, at least not without one more kill.

I didn't know how to feel. Confident they would catch him? Scared he was smarter than everyone had given him credit for? There was no reason for him to fear death, he had nothing to loose.

In a matter of time, unknown to anyone, he found us. After a brutal battle that lasted through the rest of the night and more lives lost, our lives were spared. God was watching in that court room seeing how we as people and believers handled good and bad and must have decided we had more to do or something like that. We were alive. My dad was in critical condition and whisked away and the rest of us knew we would spend a few days in a hospital but would be able to share this story, rather we wanted to or not.

As far as Mr. Hide and Seek, he might of found us, but didn't win. He didn't die either. Taking to his original destination, that black hole and as far as anyone knows, he made it. But for every one's sake, let's pray he indeed did make it and currently resides there...

Resides there, far away from here in a dream world, which all happened to me during a night this week around 3:30 a.m. I woke up out of breathe, ready to scream. I knew sleeping wasn't an option at this point, so got up and of course checked all doors. I then went ahead and fixed Clay's lunch as well as my brother's and left a note for Clay letting him know I put them in the refrigerator. Thirty minutes later I returned to bed and snuggled up to Clayton and whispered, "I had a nightmare. Will you snuggle up with me?" He mumbled and curled around me and played with my hair as he laid there snoring. I was never so glad to hear him snore or have him pull on my knotted hair. I feel asleep and dreamed pleasantly the rest of the night.

I have read that pregnancy can make your dreams more intense, more real-life, and more frequent. I have always had dreams that were full of action and people I knew, but this may have surpassed them all... so to you, I gave a glimpse of my dream world, and in this case, a Natalie nightmare. And maybe the longest post ever.

Congratulations to those of you who made it through. What true blogger friends!

And P.S. In the time it took me to write this- I think I grew a little. Next picture at the end of three months!