posted on Aug, 11 2018 @ 11:45 AM
The sheriff pulls me into the courtroom, and all eyes turn to me. I'm stumbling in the chains placed about my ankles, trying to roll my feet as I
walk so they don't bite into me. Still, I am aware enough to gauge the mood of the room. It's more or less what I expected, but a bit better than
what I'd hoped for.
To be sure, plenty of the people are staring at me with hatred. Hell, I couldn't even hire a lawyer to defend me. I sure as hell ain't gonna let the
public defender speak for me though. I told him as much before I blew him off. But there's also people who remember one of our countries motto's:
"innocent until proven guilty." These are looking at me, some curious, some scrutinizing. What I don't see, however, is empathy.
Which, to be honest, is just as well. Empathy would only hurt my case, seeing as how I did do the crime. No, what I need to do is reason. To appeal to
the jury, and the judge if I can; to remind them that law is never black and white. That the human factor can cross that little line from many angles,
not all of them evil. I need to speak of the motives and circumstances which lead to the crime, in the hopes that they can see more than just the law
which I broke.
The first thing I say, when the judge passes the moment to me, is "May I speak, your honour?" The judge seems vaguely surprised, but nods, motions
me to the stand. The sheriff leads me, less rough in front of all the eyes. "Thank you, your honour."
I then cast my eyes about the courtroom, meeting the gazes of the jury, and the crowd. "You've gathered here today to witness and participate in the
process of law, which we think to call justice. But when we process cases of law, we must endeavour not to be machines, seeing only black and white,
unfeeling, unbending to reason and circumstance.
For, undoubtedly, there are cases for which exception might be called. A man, stealing food to feed the hungry mouth of his newborn babe, because he
got fired from his job and can find another. A woman, killing the man who raped her, then turning herself in. And let's not forget the crimes
sanctioned by "war" and "peace" both. My point is, a strict view of law yields only two outcomes, innocent or guilty. But the truth is a lot more
gray. So I ask of you, not to empathize, but to remain open.
Did I commit the crime? Yes. Yes, I brought a gun to work and killed two government officials. But what you don't know, is that those men were-",
the secret never got spilled, for just at that moment, a bullet slipped between his eyes, shattering his skull open. In the chaos and confusion that
erupted, the perpetrator slipped of the room, nodded to the sheriff's that had been paid off, took a couple of turns at a brisk pace, then began to
walk like, for all the world, nothing had happened.
For who would believe a senator with no visible ties to the murdered officials, would murder a defendant? Not many, just as the mans story would have
been perceived as the fabrication of a madman. Who would believe that an organization within the government, the military, and certain corporations
would have developed technology to infiltrate people's minds, to implant certain ideas, to remove certain beliefs, even to flood with a tide of
various emotions or errant thoughts. Still, the president had wanted no chances take. He walked outside, was shot to death by a hired gun, who also
shot three other people. There, now the slate was clean, the smoking gun passed off. Nothing left to chance.