Guilty Until Proven Innocent | Teen Ink

Guilty Until Proven Innocent

June 28, 2012
By salvar3 BRONZE, Baton Rouge, Louisiana
salvar3 BRONZE, Baton Rouge, Louisiana
2 articles 0 photos 3 comments

Favorite Quote:
believe in yourself, and keep moving forward


Do you remember the saying “You can’t be in two places at once”? At first I thought it was hollowed words, but now I’m in court trying to prove my innocence of a murder that happened a couple days ago. Fear and anxiety raced throughout my body the closer I got to my desk with my so-called lawyer right behind me. The judge of the courtroom walked in and took his seat. He was an old, white-haired, brittle old man. Great, anyway to prove my plea possibly just flew out the window. With his gavel striking the ground, the court session finally began.

"And now we will see the murder case of Mr. Hiddleburg. Will the wife of the deceased victim please step forward." ordered the judge as he turned his attention to the wife.

When the wife approached the witness stand everyone could see her crying. She’d been crying ever since she arrived. After a couple moments, the judge asked the wife what had happened that night of the murder. When the wife began her story, she said that both she and her husband were walking home from the movie theatre that night. As they were walking home, they noticed a mysterious man walking behind them with a hoodie covering his face. At first they paid no attention since they believed the mysterious person would walk off at any moment. Their assumption stayed true until the mysterious man began to quicken his pace. From there, it was a cat and mouse chase. It wasn't long before the wife said that the mysterious man cornered them both and held them at gunpoint. The husband then tried to bargain with the mysterious man with money. But the mysterious man didn't want money. He responded that he wanted death. And in that moment, the man pulled the trigger and shot the husband point blank. After killing the husband, the mysterious man then walked towards the wife aiming the gun at her. In the moments of pleading for her life, the mysterious man suddenly brought his gun down and took off the hood revealing his face before running off.

That’s strange, no killer would ever think about revealing his or her faces to any witness. After hearing her story, the judge then asked if the man that killed her husband was in fact me. "There's no doubt your honor," she said as she got up and pointed her finger towards me, "the man that killed my husband was that boy!" in that moment the entire courtroom went in an uproar.

"That's b******!" I yelled out as I hit the table with my fist.

"Order in the court!" yelled out the judge as he hit the gavel multiple times before the courtroom went silent, "Thank you Mrs. Hiddleburg, you may be seated. Will the defendant please approach the stand."

As I stepped into the witness stand and said the oath, I decided to observe the courtroom. It was the same as I walked in, angered and disappointed faces, great. The judge then started reading my so-called biography. "Kyle Nowen, 20 years old, Caucasian and attending a university for a major in criminology, now isn’t that ironic? This woman claims that you killed her husband. What do you plea?”

"Not guilty your honor," I responded.

"But how can you say that you are not guilty?" asked the judge curiously.

"Easily your honor, I wasn't the one who shot him." I told him.

"Explain to everyone in the courtroom how you’re innocent."

I then began to explain to him my own alibi. I started where I was hanging with a few of my good friends until late that night, relaxing from a difficult physics exam. After a couple hours had passed, I decided to leave the dorms to walk back home which was on the other side of campus, which was a fifteen-minute walk. Since it was dark, I tried to stick to the lighted crosswalks as best I could. As I was walking home that night, I told the judge that this mysterious man ran into me dropping his gun. I yelled at the mysterious man for bumping into me, but there was no response. He then proceeded to get up and sprint in the other direction. Moments later, cop cars that were chasing the mysterious man stopped in front of me, the cops came out of the cars, and arrested me at that exact spot only a few miles away from the crime scene. I then told the judge in that moment was where the cops obtained the "evidence" of the murder weapon and accused me of killing someone that I had no clue about. As they arrested me, I was holding the gun, which was unfortunately a bad idea. And that’s where I ended my alibi.

"Your honor, I have proof that this man is indeed the killer, a picture of his face from the scene," interrupted the wife.

Curious, the judge asked for the pictures to float around the courtroom. It took only minutes for those picture evidences to reach the jury and the judge. The judge then asked how she got the pictures. Apparently, before the killer ran off, he made Mrs. Hiddleburg take a picture of himself. How she got this picture was beyond me. When the judge saw the picture, it was dark, but was able to see the figure in the picture clearly. As I turned to the judge to see his reaction, all I saw was disbelief, "There is no mistake now. Kyle Nowen, the court and jury find you guilty of first-degree murder of the victim Mr. Hiddleburg. You will be sentence to prison for life."

"What?!" I exclaimed in disbelief, “That’s impossible! I'm innocent!"

"Then explain this to me!" the judge yelled out as he showed the picture evidence to my face.

What I saw completely shocked me. It was a picture of me that night of the murder. But something was off. And that’s where it clicked. Before I could speak, two security guards grabbed me by the arms and started to drag me. "I'm telling you this now. The person in the picture isn't me! If you give me a couple minutes I could explain what's happening!" But the judge didn't listen to me. The courtroom was in an uproar once again. As the security guards were taking me away, they somehow dropped me in the middle of the room. As I tilted my head towards the double doors that lead into the courtroom, I saw the man that was in the picture standing there with an evil smirk on his face. "You bastard," I yelled out to him, "You planned this all along!" Those were the last words I spoke before one of the security guards knocked me unconscious.

All this time, I couldn’t figure out why I was in court, why I was taking the blame of some murder I wasn’t even a part of. But now I know. When I saw the picture, I instantly recognized the person. And when I saw him in person, the facts fell into place. It was someone who could have pulled something like this off and get away with it. He was someone I cared for long ago, he was my bloodthirsty identical.


The author's comments:
What inspired me to write a short story like this is mainly because I wanted to continue writing more on realistic fiction and to improve it.

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