A PpG 'alternate reality' fan fiction
By I am a good fighter
DISCLAIMER: Powerpuff Girls created by Craig McCracken and all characters associated with the show are owned by Cartoon Network
Story idea adapted from the novel 'Replay' (c) 1986 by Ken Grimwood
This story is rated PG-13
They wouldn't let me go to the funerals. By the time I was well enough to be transferred to maximum security, the numbness was gone and I was ready to make this stinking world pay for what had been done to us. I would find some way to escape, and then I could attack and destroy and nothing was going to stop me. What difference would it make, when my life ended and then started up again, none of it would have happened anyway. Then I remembered that day of realization in the cave. Yes, it WOULD have happened anyway. THIS world would still go on after I had left it and would continue to suffer from whatever I might do. I couldn't do any more harm to it. I'd done enough already. It wasn't the fault of any of these people. I knew what had to be done.
On the morning of my arraignment, the judge sat, looking sternly at me.
"Mr. Prosecutor, read the charges."
The district attorney was handling this one himself. Careers were built on cases like this.
"The defendant Blossom Utonium is charged with three counts of murder in the first degree."
The courtroom was packed and I heard a huge gasp. I looked at my lawyer, a young woman from the public defender's office. She signaled me to be patient with a touch of her hand.
The DA continued "The People are seeking the death penalty in this case, your honor."
The room exploded. Reporters jabbered into microphones, my lawyer was on her feet, screaming at the DA and the judge, everyone else was saying something to no one in particular, and the judge was slamming his gavel down. Not a single one of them noticed the smile on my face.
Things got quieted down a bit. My lawyer was still on her feet.
"Your honor, she's a CHILD!"
"An extremely dangerous, vicious one, your honor." countered the DA.
"Fry 'er! Then we'll be rid of all of 'em!" someone yelled from the back.
"I always knew those freaks would turn on us someday!" another shouted.
I wondered if my horrible crime had shocked Townsville into these feelings, or if some people really felt that way about us in all of my lives. I prayed it was the first.
"One more outburst like that, and I'll clear this courtroom!" the judge threatened. He addressed my lawyer. "Now, Ms. Cahill, we'll argue the merits of the People's request later. For now, how does your client plead?"
She never got the chance. I was shackled and couldn't move, but my voice was strong.
"Guilty, your honor."
He had to pound repeatedly to shut everybody up. My lawyer looked at me, horrified. She turned back to the judge.
"Your honor, my client pleads not guilty!"
"But your honor, I did it!" I complained.
He looked right at me. "Young lady, a plea of not guilty is automatic in cases like this. I suggest you listen to your attorney."
"Do I have to?"
"No, you do not have to, but I would advise it."
My mind was made up. I looked at my furious, confused attorney.
"Ms. Cahill, I appreciate that you're trying to help me, but...you're fired!"
More shouting and gavel slamming. The judge was very annoyed with me at that moment. "Very well. The court will appoint a new attorney for the defendant forthwith. Court is in recess."
"Wait!" I shouted. "Court is NOT in recess! I don't WANT another lawyer!"
Everyone was staring at me now. "I intend to represent myself in this case!"
"Denied!"
"With all due respect, judge, SHUT UP!"
He was too stunned to give the order to have me removed. His jaw dropped and I had my chance.
"I plead guilty to the charges. I have no objection to the death sentence. I WANT to die!"
"Ms. Cahill, I'm re-appointing you as counsel of record. I want a psychiatric evaluation of your client YESTERDAY!"
He must have forgotten the one they'd already given me, which I had passed only because I made sure to not say anything about what had been happening to me. I knew what I was doing.
"Not so fast, judge! I was TRYING to kill MYSELF and THEY tried to STOP me! So I killed them. I meant to do it!"
It wasn't true, but lying at this point didn't matter. I needed to have my way.
He'd had enough. "Very well, if you insist, your plea is accepted!"
My new attorney objected so I fired her, again. The DA spoke up.
"The People restate their request for the death penalty, your honor."
I cut the judge off before he could say a word. "I restate my request for the death penalty, and if you don't give it to me, I swear I'll escape and I'll destroy this city!"
Except, Dear Diary, I said that very bad word again. And this time, nobody had any soap. Now, the last thing this judge liked was being made a fool in his own court. He started to give the order and I cut him off again.
"Let me save you some time, judge. I can tell you the day I'm going to die, right down to the minute!"
That did it. His face turned bright red.
"Bailiff! Give Miss Smartass a piece of paper and tell her to write it down!" (Yes, Dear Diary, he really did say that.)
He figured I knew that the condemned sat on death row for years, sitting through appeal after appeal. I guessed he would write down some ridiculously impossible date, like next week. It didn't matter what he wrote, I knew for certain when death would come for me again. Suicide attempts were a waste of time. I watched the judge's angry face as he scratched out the date. I handed the paper back to the bailiff and he took the judge's, too.
"Well?" the judge said. The bailiff looked at the sheets and turned white.
"Th-they're the same!"
I never saw a room empty faster.
