Now.

His shoes, still wet from the rain, slipped on the floor as Johannes started to run, but he managed to stay on his feet and pick up some speed. The sound of boots, hard against the floor behind him, made him force his legs to move even faster. Heart racing and lungs screaming, he reached the end of the corridor. As he was about to open the door that led to the staircase, he turned and caught a glimpse of the person speeding towards him, eyes so dark it made Johannes tremble and whimper.

He grabbed at the door and ran through. He was about to descend the staircase, when he felt a powerful hand on his shoulder. He turned and raised his hands as if to protect himself, whispering a plea that died on his lips as intense pain jolted through his jaw, paralysing the rest of the muscles in his face. His feet lost touch with the ground, and as the back of his skull made contact with the top of the staircase, it felt and sounded as if something in his head had smashed into a thousand pieces.

He didn’t pass out, but part of him wished that he had. He tried to get up, but something connected with his upper body and pushed him forcefully further down the stairs. Unable to break his fall, he landed on his back and shoulder. Then he toppled down the stairs and came to rest at the bottom.

He couldn’t move.

Couldn’t think, at least not at first. He wanted to scream for help, and he managed to cover his face with his arm, but it was pulled sharply aside. He squinted up at the person above him. Only then did Johannes fully understand how much trouble he was in.

His thoughts turned towards his family and his friends, to the songs he had yet not written, songs that would never be loved, and the tears began to roll down his cheeks. As he felt blow after blow raining down on his face, feeling the numbness travel from his head to the rest of his body, Johannes’ mind drifted away from what was happening to him. He thought about all the fun he had planned. The dreams that would never come true. And as the white lights above him started to fade, he thought of the taste of a girl’s lips. The feel of her body. And when Johannes Eklund could no longer feel a single thing, he could not help but wonder what on earth he’d walked in on, and why the hell he had to die.

1

NOW

‘Nervous?’

The court officer at Romerike District Court looks at me with a tentative smile. She’s been sitting next to me for fifteen minutes, but this is the first time I have noticed that her teeth are yellow. I stop picking at my sweaty fingers, and nod.

‘First trial?’ she asks.