"We find the defendant guilty to two accounts of murder, and sentence him to a life sentence in prison. He will be sent to Atlanta State Penitentiary. Case dismissed."
My life was officially over. I knew it the second after I killed them, so I didn't even bother to hire a lawyer.
Sounds silly right? I mean, what person wouldn't hire a lawyer when they're going to court? You're basically representing yourself – nobody to back you up, and it's your word against everyone else's.
Thing is though, I didn't have much left to live for anyway. My wife was gone, my house would've been foreclosed, all my assets would go down the tubes… I didn't even have any kids. Do you have any idea how hard I tried to convince her that raising a family would be the best decision we'd ever make?
I guess none of that really matters now though, does it? I'm going to sit in prison until the day I die, with no possible hope of parole. If my parents didn't hate me enough before, they sure as hell would now.
Heh, I could just imagine what their reactions would be. Dad would be pacing the room, muttering profanities that would make even the toughest sailor blush. Mom would be crying on the couch, wondering how her baby boy could've done such a terrible thing.
I'll tell you how!
Try fighting with your wife for three straight months, getting threatened about a divorce on four separate occasions, having their parents barge in at seven in the morning and tell me what a shitty husband I am and how my wife would call them on the phone and talk about how I'm a good for nothing son of a bitch…
And then come home early from the university on a Friday night to find her sleeping with the state senator.
That was the tip of the iceberg, as they say.
If it's any consolation (which in this case it's almost certainly not), I regret it every single day and hate myself for doing it. I can still hear her voice in my head begging for me to stop, and I see the blood splashing out of that senator's head as I smash in his face with a lamp. My wife was unfortunate enough to try and block one of my attacks, and I didn't realise until far too late that one blow to her temple had been enough.
As soon as I regained control, I immediately tossed the lamp aside like it was on fire and ran to the police station, practically begging them to take me away.
Of course though, I needed to have that stupid court hearing to make it "official".
There were so many faces staring at me on that podium, all digging into my body and planting a guilty sign right across my forehead. It was kind of pitiful how easily I gave up, having to sit through the prosecutor slandering my name and calling me a despicable, murdering, lowlife that had no place in society. I already turned myself in – what was the point of it?
But the judge seemed to be amused at the little show he was putting on, so the hearing went on for the longest hour of my life. Normally, yes, that would be an extremely short court session. But it's different when your life is shattered into pieces.
Not even the end of the world could save me now.
…but would it kill this police officer to shut up and watch where he's going? I swear he's gonna get himself killed.
Just a short little thing I thought of recently. Hope you guys liked it!