Writers debate: Fiction

Chapter 2: Outcast 8 Months and the trial was still grueling. 8 long months. Trent’s promise of a short trial and a bail hadn’t rung true. But I couldn't’t complain. Trent was helping me in court for all but the cost of a dollar, and the love he had for my now dead mother. Maybe he felt like he owes it to me, for not doing anything about it. He knew she was getting abused for years. He was my mother’s hiding place, her resort for many of those years. Yet still he did nothing to stop the man from abusing her, for fear of losing credibility in his career. A man found cheating with a married woman is never good for personal image. In the end, that personal image was more important than my mother’s life. Part of me wanted to blame Trent, but the other part of me knew I couldn't’t. I was just as responsible as he was. I could have done something years ago. And it took me this long to do it. And I handled it in the wrong way. An emotional reaction not thought through properly. But as I remember the scene, my crying mother, watch her neck snap so easily, watching him laugh at her and call her weak, I know that I would kill him again if I had the chance. No, I would do worse. I would torture him. Do the same thing he did to me and my mother for years. I would break every bone in his- *boom boom* the judge’s gavel pounded against the podium snapping me out of my thoughts. My anticipation was building up. The Jury had made their decision. “Here goes nothing.” I whispered to Trent sitting next to me at the defense table. “Don’t worry, Jason, this will be over soon, I promise.” He whispered back. I don’t think he understood the double meaning in his words. The representative took the stand. “After 8 months of trial, the jury has made their decision. Jury one votes Guilty. Is this your honest decision Jury one?” Jury one replies “Yes.” The representative continues down the list. Jury two votes Guilty. Jury three votes Innocent. Jury four votes Guilty. I gulp as she goes down the list. Innocent. Guilty. Guilty. Guilty. Guilty. As she reads the seventh guilty, my heart drops. I no longer care about the rest of the verdict, they don’t matter. Majority favors me guilty. I am shaking. I am fighting off tears. I can’t appear weak in front of the court, in front of Katie. The representative finishes. The judge hammers the gavel down twice more. “ Jason stiles, you have been convicted of murder in the first degree, for both Julia Stiles, and Robert Stiles. I hereby sentence you to the death penalty. This concludes this court session.” He bangs his gavel twice more, though this time it appears to be in slow motion. Everything is slowed and dis-orienting. My ears are ringing. I can’t hear Katie screaming and sobbing from the audience, trying to run towards me as the Bailiff carries her out of the court room. I can’t hear Trent trying to re-assure me as he usually does, telling me that he is going to get me out of this. All I hear is silence. I feel nothing. Two police officers come to escort me to the vehicle, that I know will take me to my holding cell. I will be killed in a weak, for a crime of defense. The evidence against me was too much. Fingerprints, blood. Me running didn’t help either. I was scared, and I re-acted, but overall, it was seen as implicating evidence to my guilt. People rarely saw the holes in the justice system, but they were there. And I was deep in the middle of one. It was over for me, just as Trent has promised. The two police officers approached me. Suddenly the slow motion stopped. As one of the officers reached for his handcuffs, something happened. Something in me changed. I no longer was Jason Stiles. I was a dead man. I quickly snatched the baton from the police officers belt, and bashed him in the side of the head with it hard, knocking him out, or killing him. The second police officer reaches for his gun, but not before I am able to crack him in the skull, downing him too. The audience was screaming, and running for the door. I grabbed the bald officer’s gun, holding the baton in my other hand. The bailiff was at the door holding me at gun point. Thank God Katie was pulled out of the room, and didn’t have to see all of this. I rushed at the door, easily making the terrified crowd part like the red sea. I knew the bailiff wouldn't’t shoot, not when all these people were around to potentially get hit. I pushed past him, and slam the door shut, and wedge the baton between the handles, barring any from entering. I rushed down the stairs, knowing I didn’t have long. The surprised security guard’s at the door didn’t expect what they saw. “Get on the ground now!” I screamed aiming the weapon at them. They both listened. I grabbed the pistols from their belts, and kicked them aside, so they could not reach them. I rushed out the door, knowing I had to get out of there fast. I stowed the gun in my belt, and covered it with my coat. Walking quickly, but trying to blend in with the civilians, I made turns, trying to get lost in the crowd. Here I was, again, on the run. An outcast to society. This time, there was no going back.