Anissa’s disposition hearing came first. Unlike Morgan’s attorneys, McMahon and Smith had already agreed that Anissa—who’d been found NGRI, and could legally petition to go home every six months—would not petition for release from Winnebago for a minimum of three years. The purpose of her disposition hearing would be for Bohren, after hearing evidence from both sides, to determine Anissa’s maximum length of stay at Winnebago.
On December 21, 2017, Anissa’s and Bella’s supporters gathered in court to watch McMahon and Smith duel it out with the DAs. Prosecutors on Anissa’s case leveraged their usual argument: that she had stopped being a child as soon as she colluded to commit murder, an “adult” crime. They described Bella’s injuries: the nineteen stab wounds, the additional scars from various surgeries. They asked Bohren to consider a commitment order of twenty-five years—one year for each scar on Bella’s body: “The state believes that the maximum commitment of twenty-five years is appropriate. That would take us to 2039, at a point in time when the defendant would be thirty-seven years of age … Considering the nature and gravity in this offense, being supervised until the age of thirty-seven is not all that long.”
In response, Maura McMahon played video clips of Anissa’s family talking about how much they loved her. Anissa’s grandparents talked about Anissa spending summers at their house as a child. They recounted making her chips and salsa and pushing Anissa down the hallway in a desk chair like it was a car. Anissa’s grandmother spoke of Anissa’s plans for the future. “She goes, ‘Someday I want to get married. I want to find a guy that loves me and I love him. And I want to get married and have kids.’ And she goes, ‘And then I think to myself, “Do you think that’s gonna work? Will my kids disown me if they find out what I did? Will my husband leave me?”’”
In his video clip, Bill Weier said of the Leutners, “I think about them every day. I think about how they’re doing, I think about their opinions of Kristi and I as parents, I think about their opinions of Anissa. I hope that they can find it in themselves to see that Anissa is a good person and accept the apologies from the family for everything that—all of the families involved in this tragedy have gone through over the last three and a half years.”
Anissa’s mom, Kristi, did not participate in the video. But after it finished playing, she yelled from the back of the courtroom: “I agree with my family’s statements.”
McMahon reminded the court that Anissa had already been incarcerated for 1,301 days “if you count today.” She recounted a story about how, during a recent visit, Anissa’s parents had been allowed to bring a treat for Anissa that required the use of a fork: “They had to teach her how to use it again. Because in secure detention, that’s not a utensil they have access to.” She read something that Anissa had written in fourth grade, titled “My Life”:
“Ten years from now, I’ll be twenty and training to be a zoologist. (Person that works at a zoo.) In twenty years I’ll be thirty, and have a husband and a big lazy dog. In thirty years, I’ll be forty and be a zoologist until I retire. That’s my future.”
McMahon continued: “She [has] spent almost a quarter of the life she’s lived in custody—so it’s time to move her to the hospital, and it’s time to let her move forward. But I do not think we need to hold her twice the length of time that she [has] been on this earth.”
Judge Bohren turned his gaze to Anissa. “Ms. Weier, do you want to say anything?”
“I just want everyone involved in this to know that I do hold myself accountable for this, and that I will do whatever I have to do to make sure that I don’t get any sort of delusion or whatever again—and I want everybody involved to know that I deeply regret everything that happened that day and that nothing—I know that nothing I say is gonna make this right, your honor. And nothing I say is gonna fix what I broke—and I know you’ve heard that before and you’re probably gonna hear it again, but it’s the truth, and I’m sorry.”
Before sharing his decision with the courtroom, Bohren read from Stacie Leutner’s victim impact statement: “The nineteen stab wounds that Payton endured that day left nineteen very visible scars on her arms, her legs, her hip, her torso, and her chest. The nearly six-hour surgery and other medical treatments to repair her heart, diaphragm, liver, stomach and pancreas left six more scars. Two of these scars span just below her neck to just below her bellybutton.”
“It goes on,” Bohren said of Stacie’s letter, “to discuss some issues with regards to the scars—‘shopping for homecoming dresses leaves only a few options because far too many dresses will show off her scars’ … ‘Beach vacations are a harsh reminder that swimsuits aren’t made for young girls with twenty five scars.’ So we have the physical injury, but then we got this other part of that—what always reminds Payton and her family and would remind others of what happened: the scarring and how to disclose it, or shield yourself from it, shield others from it.”
Bohren agreed with the Leutners’ choice to avoid a trial, likening it to the decision to cover Payton’s scars with clothing and calling it “practical.”
“Just as you walk down the street and somebody looks at your scars, to come back in and relive everything verbally, would be traumatizing and it would be—like a new injury to her, to the family, and also to the community.”
He continued reading from Stacie’s letter: “While Payton believes a mental health facility is the best place for Morgan and Anissa, she still fears for her safety. She still sleeps with her windows closed, locked, and with security latches engaged. She still refuses to open her curtains.”
Bohren’s other concern, he explained, was Anissa’s prevailing belief in Slenderman and the existence of other “evil” forces. During a recent psych evaluation, Anissa had estimated that “55%” of her did not believe in Slenderman, but that “45%” of her still did. She talked about how she and the other girls in general population had recently made their own Ouija board and, while playing with it, had released an evil spirit that caused Anissa to tremble with cold. “That’s a game, in some respects,” Bohren said, “but then in other situations is a very serious situation.” He pointed out that Anissa’s participation in the Ouija board activity indicated to him that “she has continued to be easily influenced by peers”—a troubling phenomenon, given the consensus around her diagnosis of a shared delusional disorder.
“Evil delusion is still out there,” Bohren said, “perhaps in another form.”
He acknowledged that Anissa had spent a great deal of time in jail already, but reminded the court that his obligation was to community safety, and “what’s best for the community, may not be best for Anissa Weier.”
Out of consideration for “what happened,” Bohren continued, “and the community’s perception of what happened,” he felt “satisfied” that twenty-five years was “appropriate.” On behalf of his voters, he said, “I look at the nature of the offense … The serious part of it, the serious nature of it; a planned murder by kids—and I can say planned murder—it sounds like I’m talking about some organized crime operation … The impact is the same.”
Despite the constant string of losses in court, Anissa’s family was stunned. Their win at trial had renewed their optimism. They’d thought their agreement to wait three years before petitioning would be a mark in their favor. In response to the twenty-five-year commitment, Anissa’s mom, Kristi, lamented, “After spending twenty-five years in a mental institution, my fear is that she will not really know how to interact with normal people at Walmart, at the gas station, at Pick ’n Save.”
Walmart, gas stations, and Pick ‘n Save, the local grocery store, were all distant memories for Anissa. The last time she had entered a Walmart was to wash the blood off Morgan’s hands.