Song 20- 'Murder She Wrote' Chaka Demus and Pliers
Mercedes Jones
The name was on everyone's lips. Her trial for the brutal slaying of her boyfriend and his friends had kept everyone talking. The fact that she was a beautiful girl who had come to the States to escape a brutal home life in Jamaica had also been clucked and worried over. Many people wondered if she deserved to be in prison.
But if you were to ask the woman herself, she would tell you that she felt no remorse, and that she did indeed deserve to be in jail.
She kept to herself mostly in the jail, electing to spend her time reading books and ignoring everyone. One guard commented on it to his fellow co workers.
"She's like a statue. She doesn't do anything but read."
"Leave her alone, Puckerman. She's a deadly little thing. I'd hate to be alone in a room with her," James cackled.
"It doesn't seem like she would have done something like that," Puck mused.
"Watch it man. Don't start feeling sympathy for her. That shit will get you fired."
Puck nodded solemnly. The next time he did his rounds, he forced himself not to meet Mercedes' all too knowing gaze.