Jan 26
I was bored last night so I wrote a short story about people who never accept responsibility for their actions… enjoy!
The Morning Light
The morning light shone off the window straight into my eyes. I wondered for a moment where I was until I remembered the shackles around my wrists. I was in jail. Not the kind of jail they put criminals in either, the kind of jail they put the nut-jobs in. Welcome to my nightmare. It all began several years ago when I learned off my wife’s death. She was a sweet soul. Incapable of any kind of harm. That’s why, so they tell me, I slashed her throat. I killed her they say. But for the love of God, I don’t remember doing it. I remember finding her and seeing her pale white face splashed with blood. Son of a bitch. How did I get here?
I remember it was an early morning in the bitter cold winter on 1989. I woke up around 7:30 with a slamming headache and a mouth full of sandpaper. You see the night before I had found out I was being ‘retrenched’ so I told my boss precisely what he could do with his job. After about nine hits of Scotch. I was in my prime. The leading marketing executive of Martin, Dunwich and Martin. The most successful ad company in the world. So they said. I never actually bought that kind of hype I just thought wow, that’s cool. You know what it’s like you work for a place long enough you begin to think it’s the best place to be. Especially when the throw money at you. It’s a shame what happened to him. I still don’t know how he got out of the window and fell thirteen stories to his death. You’d think he had it all. Maybe he was pushed?
As I stumbled out of bed I realised something was missing. No wife. Sure, there had been times when I deserved it but we both hit it pretty hard that night. I went to the can to relieve myself and walked downstairs to get my morning coffee. There she was. Naked, lying on the kitchen floor, head smashed open … brains everywhere. I can still see the open mouth and dangling eyeballs. Yuck. It still features in my nightmares even after twenty years.
The cops arrested me of course because I was the only one they could muster up. Don’t get me started about the show trial. You know the rest of the story don’t you? Do you read the papers? I know I do. Sure, they are full of crap but the one thing I can promise you is that I didn’t kill that guard. Or the one after that. It’s a frame up. Each one they put near my cell winds up dead. I swear there is someone following me, I didn’t do it! It’s not me. When they slapped me in here I thought that finally it would stop. No, that poor lady that feeds me is now missing a finger. I am telling you I am innocent.
When they found my lawyer impaled on a javelin they blamed me. I can’t help it if I am good at sports can I? I mean in reality, I may have been the only one to ever have hit the record at high school. But I didn’t do it. I am telling you I didn’t do it.
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