The Concrete Mile

"Invalid Item"  Winner for 03/23/06
Prompt: Write a story in which an innocent person is punished for something.
Word Count: 350


It all happened so fast. Even now, Tony wanted to make sense of it all. The accusation came from out of nowhere, and the next thing he knew, he was tried, convicted, and sentenced for a crime he didn’t commit.

He remembered Shelly’s expression as he was escorted from the room. Her eyes were weary, helpless. She tried to defend him, but her testimony was ignored. Conflict of interest, the prosecutor maintained. Tony also remembered his accusers’ looks that day—conspiring, jubilant. Damn them all…

Tony heard the distinct thud-thud of his footsteps as they hit the concrete floor, while he walked down the corridor to his final destination. The Concrete Mile—a name this length of the corridor had been christened decades ago by the inmates in this rotten jailhouse. It was the dreaded walk—one that Tony never thought he’d find himself doing today. He looked behind him, and saw his prosecutor striding smugly, a guard to his left.

They finally arrived at the chamber, and his prosecutor knocked twice. The door swung in, and Tony’s eyes immediately saw the chair—his chair. Despite the strength he had shown thus far, Tony couldn’t stop the strong emotions that suddenly shot up to the surface of his being at the sight of the chair, and he turned to his prosecutor to make a final plea. He heard himself speak the words, but couldn’t recognize his own voice; it sounded weak, defeated.

“It’s too late for you now,” his prosecutor said plainly. Tony noted the half-smile on his prosecutor’s face as he and the guard disappeared on the other side of the door as it closed.

The man in the chamber motioned for him to sit. Tony reluctantly sat in the chair, and closed his eyes. His thoughts were suddenly filled with images of his life up to that point—the faces of his parents, his siblings', flew around his swiftly weakening mind. His only consolation was that this would soon be over.

“Now, Anthony,” Principal Womack finally spoke. “Let’s talk about that chalk that you threw at your teacher…”