A woman in the stands screamed as the verdict was passed. Not Guilty.

They wanted so badly to find me guilty, because I was there, because I was covered in blood. That woman wanted me to spend the rest of my life in jail where I was sure I didn’t belong.

Sort of. I’m not really sure what I did that night but I didn’t even know the girl. The last thing I remember before waking up in hospital is leaving Tesco.
The lawyer told me to lie. To say I remembered. To say I did this and then that, because he’d got the notes from the crime scene and he was sure what he told me to do coordinated.
I didn’t know what I was saying but I spent all morning practising my speech.

It must have worked, I guess, because that was the verdict and I could go home. Wherever that was. Something about protection. I didn’t know why.

I didn’t really feel anything when they announced the verdict.
Not releif.
Not excitement.
Maybe that’s because I’m insane.