02-24-2010, 09:08 PM
We were given a quote and told to write a short story with it in it.
Apperantly mine got full marks :P
First person to guess the quote gets 5zmu points
This wooden chair is uncomfortable, but then it wasn’t designed for comfort. The sponge on my head, slowly letting out water, is there to keep this humane. Death is never humane. The guards are silent, but I’m no longer afraid. I remember the dark cell I came from, stale with the scent of urine. I remember the long walk here, the reporters pressing against the barricades, trying to ask their questions, trying to get their story; they had demanded a public execution. So now I just sit and wait in this wooden chair surrounded by curious faces looking back at me, a curved sheet of bullet proof glass between me and them.
I remember the courthouse where I was sentenced;
“Mr Erickson, do you remember the night in question?”
“Yes”
“And where were you that night?”
“My friend and colleague Billy Swanson had just been promoted, we were celebrating”
“By that you mean drinking?” The lawyer asked.
“Was this at Billy’s house?”
“No, we went to a bar”
“We?”
“Me, Billy, John Riley and Ed Slavic” I had explained
“And why can none of these people verify your alibi?”
I looked around the room, I could see my friends sitting in the front row, they had been called as witnesses denying my testimony, but why were they doing this to me?
“They’re lying”
The courtroom was overcome by frantic murmuring.
“Order!” yelled the judge
The murmur stopped.
“Alright Mr Erickson, tell us again what happened?”
“We all went to the bar as usual, and living not too far away, I walked home”
“Where you found your family murdered?”
“Where I found a police officer, telling me my family had been murdered”
The lawyer opened his briefcase and took out a small pile of papers.
“Are you aware that you have a CCTV network inside your house?”
“Yes, we had it installed after we were burgled last year”
...He then proceeded to hand them out among the jury, he gave one to the judge and finally one to me. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
“These are fake!” I exclaimed as the courtroom erupted into murmur once more.
I stared at the pictures I’d been given, pictures of my dead family and me...standing over them.
From there, there was only one way it could have gone;
“Guilty”
I could feel the fear swelling up through me the pain of not being able to do anything about it. My family were dead, they blamed me, and at that moment I knew what was coming, even before they said it; Death by electrocution
I had an interview after the trial after the trial about what I had done, these people were convinced I was guilty, I had been declared guilty, but that was a setup. I don’t know why or how and I will never find out.
I had spent some time on death row, got to know my fellow inmates, It’s strange; you hear all the storeys of prison life, but in there we were all going t die so you got something form both guards and inmates alike; Respect.
So now I sit on this wooden chair, the guards are silent, as are the observers, but I am no longer afraid for I have feared this day for many before, but now my final hour is at hand, I realise; Fear is meaningless.
A microphone is lowered before me.
“Any last words?”
I shake my head; I can still hear the lingering sound of my name being called out. All those people looking for a story...My story. The sad truth is, it will never be told.
Whoever set me up has won, when I die so will my story, so will my truth. Once I die there will be only the lie, and that will become the truth. It no longer matters what happened, history will show that I killed them.
And for all intents and purposes...I did.
Apperantly mine got full marks :P
First person to guess the quote gets 5zmu points
This wooden chair is uncomfortable, but then it wasn’t designed for comfort. The sponge on my head, slowly letting out water, is there to keep this humane. Death is never humane. The guards are silent, but I’m no longer afraid. I remember the dark cell I came from, stale with the scent of urine. I remember the long walk here, the reporters pressing against the barricades, trying to ask their questions, trying to get their story; they had demanded a public execution. So now I just sit and wait in this wooden chair surrounded by curious faces looking back at me, a curved sheet of bullet proof glass between me and them.
I remember the courthouse where I was sentenced;
“Mr Erickson, do you remember the night in question?”
“Yes”
“And where were you that night?”
“My friend and colleague Billy Swanson had just been promoted, we were celebrating”
“By that you mean drinking?” The lawyer asked.
“Was this at Billy’s house?”
“No, we went to a bar”
“We?”
“Me, Billy, John Riley and Ed Slavic” I had explained
“And why can none of these people verify your alibi?”
I looked around the room, I could see my friends sitting in the front row, they had been called as witnesses denying my testimony, but why were they doing this to me?
“They’re lying”
The courtroom was overcome by frantic murmuring.
“Order!” yelled the judge
The murmur stopped.
“Alright Mr Erickson, tell us again what happened?”
“We all went to the bar as usual, and living not too far away, I walked home”
“Where you found your family murdered?”
“Where I found a police officer, telling me my family had been murdered”
The lawyer opened his briefcase and took out a small pile of papers.
“Are you aware that you have a CCTV network inside your house?”
“Yes, we had it installed after we were burgled last year”
...He then proceeded to hand them out among the jury, he gave one to the judge and finally one to me. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
“These are fake!” I exclaimed as the courtroom erupted into murmur once more.
I stared at the pictures I’d been given, pictures of my dead family and me...standing over them.
From there, there was only one way it could have gone;
“Guilty”
I could feel the fear swelling up through me the pain of not being able to do anything about it. My family were dead, they blamed me, and at that moment I knew what was coming, even before they said it; Death by electrocution
I had an interview after the trial after the trial about what I had done, these people were convinced I was guilty, I had been declared guilty, but that was a setup. I don’t know why or how and I will never find out.
I had spent some time on death row, got to know my fellow inmates, It’s strange; you hear all the storeys of prison life, but in there we were all going t die so you got something form both guards and inmates alike; Respect.
So now I sit on this wooden chair, the guards are silent, as are the observers, but I am no longer afraid for I have feared this day for many before, but now my final hour is at hand, I realise; Fear is meaningless.
A microphone is lowered before me.
“Any last words?”
I shake my head; I can still hear the lingering sound of my name being called out. All those people looking for a story...My story. The sad truth is, it will never be told.
Whoever set me up has won, when I die so will my story, so will my truth. Once I die there will be only the lie, and that will become the truth. It no longer matters what happened, history will show that I killed them.
And for all intents and purposes...I did.