"My father served his country honorably his whole life and never wronged a soul. Nobody expected that in his old age he'd suffer something like this. He's still lying in the ICU, unable to get up!"
"I'm begging all of you, help us get justice. Make sure the person responsible pays for what they've done!"
The crowd's fury swelled. I was trapped in the center, and someone kicked me hard from behind where no one could see. Then again. And again.
Officer Chavez arrived just in time, pushing through the mob and dispersing them before pulling me free.
My face was a patchwork of bruises, my clothes stained with splotches of yellow. Up close, the stench was unmistakable.
"Just you wait. I trust the court will give my father the justice he deserves!"
Michael shot me one last venomous look before turning on his heel and leaving.
Once he got home, he uploaded a wildly exaggerated account of the whole incident online.
Countless strangers sneered at me and my grandfather. The comment sections were a wall of hate, every last one cursing us.
With the trial date approaching, not a single lawyer was willing to take my case.
In the end, the court had to appoint one for me before the trial could proceed.