She looks in despair into the eyes of her peers. Eyes that glare back, full of hatred, and judgment. 
How can it be, that she is treated like a monster, because she thinks it's wrong to kill? To not believe one can simply judge the value if human life? Hah, oh the irony of being hated for morality. 
So, she tries to annunciate her argument, and say simply that one can be redeemed, and someones past actions deserve consequences, yes, but there should still be a modicum of compassion in our justice system. 
This did nothing, but make it worse. She's still looked upon with ignorant eyes. 
One daring member of the group spits out that she thinks killing people is okay. 
No no no, she stammers. But the group persists. 
Another shouts out that she's an anarchist. 
Another that she hates the government. 
Another that she hates America. 
The girl runs away, as her persecutors arguments became even more so pointed and violent. Crying, she runs to her mother and hides in her arms. 
What's wrong, the aged woman asks, her face kind and wise. 
The crying girl stays silent for a couple seconds, then looks her mother in the eyes and asks:
Why are people so mean? So uncaring?
Her mother was silent, for she had no answer.