Ficly

False Accusations

My lawyer looked nervous, which made me shake with anxiety. It was a wrong place, wrong time kind of thing.

“I found the guy in the middle of the street, he was already dead.” I swore upon my life. I was a horrible liar, I told him. I ain’t never killed nobody, I said, I wouldn’t do that. He believed me, which was good. That makes one of us.

It all boiled down to one thing: evidence. I told my lawyer they didn’t have any evidence because I didn’t kill him. He had nothing to worry about. He believed me, which was good. At least someone believed me.

My lawyer slicked back his hair, and we entered the courtroom.

I had nothing to worry about, my lawyer told me, I was innocent. Even the judge knew I was innocent, this trial was a piece of cake.

As the case was coming to an end, the sweat on the back of my neck drying, the prosecution pulled out their last piece of evidence.

“This video clearly shows Mr. Prior attacking and killing Mr. Roberts.”

Shit.

View this story's 6 comments.