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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Contest · #1085592
a story about an innocent person convicted of a crime
I spent the last four hours of my life huddled on the stone cold floor of the prison cell, with my chin resting on my knees. Of course, I couldn’t sleep. So I began reliving various memories, both happy and sad. As I turned the pages of my memory album, I relived my childhood, my teenage years, and my wedding day. Then I reached the worst day of my life.

I’d just found out I was pregnant and had taken the day off from work without letting my live-in boyfriend know. I’d begun doing that lately, tired of his unending demands on my money and time. He’d been fired from his job as a cashier at the bank two weeks ago. Since then our relationship had just gone downhill. I’d spent the morning shopping and had planned to take a long nap in the afternoon. To my shock and horror, I’d opened the front door of my house to see my boyfriend standing over the bloodied body of Nancy, the young girl who lived next door. I gaped at him and the body, like an idiot, unable to comprehend the scene in my shocked state.

My boyfriend rushed to my side. He helped me sit down and explained how Nancy had come in and tried to seduce him, how he’d refused and she’d gotten angry. How it turned into a fight. And how he’d killed her in self-defense. Then he changed his spiel and told me how we had to hide the body, else I’d have to raise our baby alone. So I helped him dump the body in the nearby woods, never once noticing that he’d worn gloves while I hadn’t.

When the body was discovered a couple of days later, my fingerprints were everywhere. My husband testified against me, saying I’d always disliked Nancy for reasons unknown. I watched the trial unfold as if from far away. And when the jury convicted me to death, it was as if they were convicting someone else…

I hear some noise and look up to see the guard come to escort me. As I begin the last walk of my life, I see a shadow on the floor. My boyfriend. I keep walking without looking at him.
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