AN: This one-shot was inspired partly by the movie The Shawshank Redemption and partly by the Scott Peterson trial. I got the idea for it last night and have been sitting at my computer for three hours, rewriting it over and over again. I finally became satisfied with this version, although I'm not completely happy with it. Please read and review and tell me your thoughts.

Title: Gabriella
Rating: T
Author: MadiWillow
Summary: Troy is sentenced to death after wrongfully being accused of his wife's murder. OneShot.
Genre: Drama/Tragedy
Chapter: One-shot

"We, the jury in the above-entitled cause, find the defendant Troy Jonathan Bolton guilty of the crime of the murder of Gabriella Anne Bolton."

"We, the jury, hereby recommend the death sentence to the defendant, Troy Jonathan Bolton."

"Mr. Bolton, I am agreeing with the jury on your sentence. You will be residing in Folsom Prison on death row, without parole, until your execution."

These were the words that were still haunting Troy Bolton's nightmares, forty years after they were spoken. They were the words that chilled him to the bone, the words that made goose bumps erupt all over his arms, the words that caused him to wake up in the middle of the night, covered in a cold, clammy sweat while salty tears dripped out of his eyes.

"It's what you deserve, you no good son-of-a-bitch!"

"I hope you burn in hell for what you did, Troy Bolton!"

"We still love you, Troy. We just wish you wouldn't have done this."

The statements spoken by Chad Danforth, Sharpay Evans, and his own mother were the statements that tore him up inside, the words that made him want to scream out in agony. They made him want nothing more than to take his own life.

But no matter how much these words and memories hurt him, how much his heart ached and throbbed with pain and misery, the thing that caused him the most anguish he could possibly have ever imagined, was not the fact that he was innocent, but the knowledge that the real monster who had murdered his pregnant wife was still out there. The fact that the real cold-blooded murderer was perhaps walking around free, killing others, while Troy was left to rot in prison for nothing more than marrying the love of his life.

The fact that not even his own parents would believe him was enough to make him scream in agony. He had hoped, while he was sitting in jail that first night, that at least his parents would believe he was innocent. He imagined his mother, crying as she stroked his face, saying, "Don't worry, Troy, we'll get you out of here," and his father, overcome with anger towards the authorities, growling, "We know you're innocent, son."

How wrong he was. He wasn't visited by his parents until the bail hearing, where his mother told him that they were sorry he'd thought his only way out of the marriage was to kill Gabriella. "You could've divorced her," she said sadly. "I just don't understand why you thought you had to murder her."

Troy had been so taken aback by her words that he didn't even think to defend himself. But it didn't matter. The prosecution twisted every single detail and event of that night against Troy, so much so that no one would even listen to a thing the defense, or Troy, had to say.

"You, Bolton, get up," a guard said, kicking Troy in the stomach.

Troy was violently ripped from his thoughts as he coughed and gasped for air; the kick had winded him. He looked up, puzzled, at the guard. Wasn't today his day off from prison duties?

"Didn't you hear me? Get up, you filthy, disgusting baby-killer!" He snarled.

Troy got up slowly and let the guard steer him out of his cell. Still bewildered, he looked around and saw a calendar taped up on the wall of another prisoner's cell; the date, he saw, was June 12th, 2056.

Of course, Troy said to himself, realization dawning. It's my execution date.

Troy's execution came quicker than most prisoners did, mostly because he didn't appeal his case. It's no use, he told himself. My trial won't ever get overturned. And he was right. No new evidence had ever come up that he could use in his defense. He was as guilty as ever.

They let him into the execution room, where the doctor was waiting with his lethal injection. There was a glass wall next to the chair, and through it Troy could see his old friends, his ex-mother-in-law, and his father waiting. They all watched, with blank expressions, as Troy was strapped to the chair. The doctor rolled up Troy's sleeve and started to dab at his arm with a wet cotton ball.

Troy leaned his head and breathed in and out deeply through his nose. Even though he was going to die, he felt at peace. He was an old man of sixty-five now. He'd been in prison for more than half of his life, and his wife was dead. He had no reason to feel remorse. He still didn't know how he'd forgotten it was his execution date; he'd been counting down for it for the past few months. He hadn't even been the least bit suspicious when the guards had brought him his favorite dinner as his 'last meal.' He'd been too immersed in his thoughts.

Suddenly his heart leapt. I'm going to see Gabriella! His mind screamed ecstatically. After forty-two years, I finally get to see Gabriella again! He began to get excited for his death, watching impatiently as the doctor cleaned the needle. Come on! He thought to himself excitedly. Hurry it up!

He looked back through the glass wall. His father looked him straight in the eyes, unblinkingly, his expression hardened. He didn't move, didn't open his mouth; just stared.

Almost without warning, Troy felt the needle pierce his skin and he looked down. He watched at the liquid transferred from the tube above the needle and filled his bloodstream. His heart raced; only a matter of time.

He looked up again. His old high school friends, most of them with gray hair now, were watching almost hungrily. His ex-mother-in-law was sitting in a wheel chair, looking like death itself, as she waited for the life to be taken from her supposedly-murdering ex-son-in-law. His father, a widower, nodded slightly at Troy.

Troy could feel the injection making an effect on his body. He was growing tired and drowsy, but before he went he locked eyes with his father again. He mouthed I forgive you before leaning his head back against the chair, closing his head, and letting his life be swept away from him.

Gabriella...