To Kill a Mocking Bird Rewrite-Mayella Ewell's Testimony

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Natalie Erdman
Miss Atz
English 9 Honors (Period 4)
15 February 2012
Mayella’s Testimony

I hear someone call my name, my full name
“Mayella Violet Ewell!” I can hear it loud and clear, I’m so scared. I know what really happened but I can’t tell.
I walk toward the witness stand, terrified. I stop before enterin’, take the oath sayin I’ll say the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth; but it’s all a lie, the oath and what I’ll testify.

I’m sittin’ in the stand, lookin’ the best I could, then the questions begin. The questions about the night of November 21 of last year. “Where were you at dusk on that evening?” Mr. Glimer first asks me.

I think real hard, “On the porch.” I reply
“Which porch” he asks, like we are rich nuff to own more than one porch.
“Ain’t but one, the front porch” I retort.
“What were you doing on the porch?”
I don’t recall so I say an answer that probably won’t help, “nothin’”
I guess Judge Taylor didn’t like that answer so he tells me to tell what happened. How can I do that? If I tell them what really happened I’d get in trouble and Papa would get in trouble. If I lie I’m sending a man to jail. So, I decide to lie and send that nigger to jail. “Just do and say what Papa told me.” I repeat that in my head then I continue my story. But then just as I was about to speak I burst into tears. I cover my face so I don’t look like a fool, but it’s no use I am a fool. I regain myself and continue. I just can’t do it. Judge ask if I’m alright, and says there is nothing to be scared of. I say that I know that, but they don’t hear me. I remove my hands from my mouth and point at Mr. Finch and say, “Him.”

Judge Taylor questions me, “Mr. Finch?”
I nod and say, “Don’t want him doin’ me like he done Papa, tryin’ to make him out left handed…” I continue ramblin’ on but Judge cuts me off asking how old I was. “Nineteen and-n-half” I tell him through sobs. He then cleared his throat and tried to tell me that Mr. Finch doesn’t want to scare me and he is there to stop him. But I already know that. I continue to sit there in silence, still scared. Mr. Glimer proceeds to ask me questions. I then continue, “Well sir, I was on the porch and–and he came along and, you see there was this old chiffarobe in the yard Papa’d brought it to chop for kinidlin’–Papa told me to do it while he was off in the woods but I wadn’t feelin’ strong enough then, so he come by–“

I’m interrupted by what I think is a silly question, “Who is ‘he’?” I thought it was obvious who ‘he’ was, but I pointed him out.
“I’ll have to ask you to be more specific please,” said Mr. Glimer. “The reporter can’t put down gestures very well.
I sigh and point him out and say, “That’n yonder, Robinson.”
Mr. Glimer nods slightly and asks “Then what happened?”
“I said come here, nigger, and bust up this chiffarobe for me, I gotta nickel for you. He coulda done it easy enough he could. So he come in the yard an ‘fore I knew it he was on me. Just run up behind me, he did. He got me round the neck, cussin’ me an’ sayin’ dirt–I fought’n’ hollered but he ad me round the neck. He hit me again an’ again–“ I pause to collect myself from this terrible event. I waited because I thought Mr. Glimer was going to ask me more questions. He didn’t so I continued my story. “–he chucked me on the floor an’ chocked me’n took advantage of me.”

Then the questions begin’ “Did you scream?” “Did you scream and fight back?”
“Reckon I did, hollered for all I was worth, kicked and hollered loud as I could.”
“Then what happened” Mr. Glimer repeats
“I don’t remember too good, but next thing I knew Papa was in the room over me hollerin’ who don’t it, who done it? Then I sorta fainted an’ the next thing I knew Mr. Tata was pullin’ me up offa the floor and leadin’ me to the water bucket.” As I continue with my lies I grow more confidence in tellin’ them which I guess is good and bad.

“You say you fought him off as hard as you could? Fought...
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