A Spoiled Life

On January 16th 1995 a vicious earthquake struck the city of Kobe Japan leaving over a quarter of a million people homeless and killing over four thousand. A mixture of men, women and children, all belonging to families. To lose your family like that is a pain that few of us could cope with and one would question whether there is a God if he stands back and allows such things to happen in life. That event will always stand out in my mind, as that was the day when I was charged with the brutal murder of my wife Sarah.

As I sit here and write I wonder just how long do I have to live? I look around me and I see many people like myself, we are complete strangers to one another. However our one similarity, we lie here waiting to be told when our lives are over.

Last week an execution was authorised by the courts and one man, charged with the brutal murder of his two children was killed by lethal injection. This man was guilty and was a well know paedophile. His own wife caught him at the scene of the crime. A blood soaked knife was found in his hands, the man simply stood there with a large smile across his face as the bodies of his kid’s lay on the ground, their throats had been slit open.

These types of people (if you could call them that) have no feeling towards anybody or anything. How this man could butcher his own flesh and blood like that is beyond any sane person’s comprehension. He will not be missed on this earth.
This type of punishment can only be deemed suitable based on the severity of the crime committed, but the system can get it wrong. How you may ask, well I am one such example. Sentenced to death for a crime I did not commit. Ironically I lie here writing this because of attempting to intervene and save my wife from her attacker.

The 31st of December 1994 was the night it happened. It was the day of my bosses 50th Birthday and he had decided to have a Company celebration. We had achieved record profits for that particular year and had now made the top twenty lists of the richest firms in America.

My wife Sarah had accompanied me to the party though everyone there bar me would have been a total stranger to her. We had just come through a rough patch in our marriage and were weeks from filing for a divorce agreement but then had a dramatic change and we chose to try again for sake of our two children, James and Anna.

While I tried my best to stay by her side throughout the night it was becoming increasingly difficult due to Paul, my assistant from the production floor. I do not believe that this man knew the meaning of the word relaxation. He spent the whole night discussing the future of the company at this exciting time as he put it.

Possibilities of new management, which could mean promotions for the two of us, were on his mind. I could tell. The company had wanted to hold talks with us last week but due to unforeseeable circumstances decided to cancel them at the 11th hour.
Instead, they would hold them at a later date, possibly after the party, which would give the two of us a chance to prepare a presentation, increasing our chances of that promotion.

As the night commenced I continued to be distracted by Paul and lost track of Sarah. Excusing myself from his company I decided to go and look for my wife whom I knew would not be happy that I left her by herself for so long. Unable to locate her I asked my secretary Julie whom I had spotted talking to her earlier on.
To my amazement she told me that she had become fed up and gone home. Apparently I had spent over an hour and a half discussing the promotion with Paul. This had infuriated her so much that she left the party.

Using my cell phone I tried to contact her, there was no answer. I presumed that she had not got her phone with her that night. I tried calling the landline number, still no answer. She probably knew it was me calling her and I guessed she was not in the mood for listening to my excuses. I had promised not to leave her alone and I broke it so maybe I did deserve the silent treatment. But we were starting our relationship off again and I had to go back to the house to sort things out quickly before whatever relationship we had left was gone forever.

As I approached our home I noticed a black van parked outside the front. This was most unusual at this hour of night and I did not recall any of our neighbours owning one. The front door to our house had been left wide open and the flower-plants on the window still had been smashed on the floor. This had never happened before. I still did not believe that someone could be in the house other than my wife. But then Sarah had always been safety conscious and would never do such a stupid thing such as this.

Downstairs looked pretty normal, nothing had been disturbed. The drawers of my study showed no signs of damage, they had contained small amounts of cash. The television and computer had also been left intact. There was still no sign of my wife. I called out her name, there was no answer. Maybe she hadn’t come home and had simply gone off with her girlfriends. She did that a lot when we were going through our problems.

How wrong I was.

As I ascended the stairs I noticed that there was a champagne glass smashed on the middle step. There were splashes of blood dotted on most of the remaining stairs.
Panic began to emerge from inside of me. I ran for our bedroom following the slight blood trail. Upon entering my worst fear was realised.
Sarah lay completely silent on the bed. Her clothes had been torn. It was obvious to see that she had been raped. Her faced looked badly cut and bruised. This person had certainly left their mark on her.

I approached the bed in an effort to examine her but suddenly felt a stabbing blow to the lower part of my back. I collapsed to the ground. As I looked up I stared into the eyes of a youngish man in his late teens. There was something evil and sinister about those eyes of his. There was no sign of fear in them, no sign of remorse, he didn’t seem to care about what he had just done. This was not the first time he had attempted something like this nor would it be the last.

He had a small bat concealed in his left hand. Picking me up by the neck he threw me across the room and against the wall. He was incredibly strong but I was filled with anger. How someone could enter my premises and attack my wife. For all I knew she could have been dead.

He approached me and I ran straight for him thrusting my head into his stomach. We both crashed to the ground and upon impact the bat had slipped from his had and was now on the floor unattended. I had the advantage now by grabbing it and quickly got to my feet but as I went to strike him he kicked me across the side of the ribs. The pain was unreal and I fell back to the ground.

The man stood up and to my horror produced a gun from somewhere. I expected him to shoot me right away but instead he took aim at my wife and pulled the trigger. The bullet tore through her flesh and it shattered her chest. She had been killed instantly.

The man was becoming worried that his presence had been heard by a passer by quickly made haste and fled the room. As he departed I noticed a feature on the mans arm. It was a tattoo of some creature. The animal was very decorative and I was unable to make out what it could be. He also had dropped the gun on the floor. I was unable to go after him. My ribs were in extreme pain and I was sure that they had been broken after the attack.

It was then that I made the biggest mistake I live to regret, even to this very moment. Picking up the gun in my bruised hand I struggled over to the bed. Sarah lay there totally motionless. The covers were soaked with blood.

The police arrived on the scene along with the paramedics who brought me to hospital where I was diagnosed with four broken ribs, a fractured arm and slight concussion. As soon as I regained full consciousness the police were very anxious to hear my account of what had happened. I explained to them about the man inside my home that had raped my wife.

This was the first time I met the Commissioner of the Police Department in the hospital. Chief Irons. At first I thought it was strange that the head of the police would be leading the investigation of a crime which was not of the highest security threat but looking back on it now it make perfect sense.

He was an extremely angry man; it was easy to spot in the tone of his voice. You could tell that the officers were clearly fearful of him. The ageing affect had taken its toll on the Chief. His mid section was no longer as slender as it was in his early years and now hung out over his belt. He moved very slowly though that was because he didn’t have to move quickly for anybody.

He asked me a lot of questions about the firearm, which bore only my set of prints, and I tried to tell them that it was a spur of the moment action. If it had been a case of rape he said the laboratories had discovered no trace of semen. Also there had been no other witness to back up my account of the black van, which I’d seen moments before entering the house.

I knew they had begun a background check on my profile before the questioning as they were up to date with the conflicts in my marriage. Four months prior to our first split I had been going through a rough patch at work. Continuing problems in work resulted in me becoming depressed and developing a drinking problem. In a fierce row with Sarah one night I struck her across the face. It was the worst thing I ever did to her and she walked out on me the next day. Sarah also had a rather large life assurance policy. A very large one at that. She had an important job; she was an Assistant Manager for a prestigious Software Programming firm.

As the questions began to go on it was becoming more apparent that the police would believe me to be the person responsible for the murder of Sarah. I sat in the bed and gasped when I discovered that the police were convinced I was the sole person responsible for the murder of my wife. They claimed I murdered her in cold blood to claim insurance money.

They said I had a history of rows with my wife over the children and that I tried to take her to court in an attempt to gain custody but backed off after receiving advice from my lawyers, I had to admit that this was true. And since I would be the sole receiver of almost One Million Dollars I could use the money to start over again with my children by my side.

I began to tremble uncontrollably as they continued. I learned that the gun had been registered in my wife’s name even though I told them I was unaware she was in possession of such an item.

They also told me they were aware of the fact that I had left the party early without giving a reason. My secretary Julie had given a report to the police where she stated that she assumed we’d had another row of some sort and that my wife had left the premises and I had followed her around ninety-five minutes later.

I repeated my story of the other man with the tattoo but they said they had checked criminal records and had come up with no match of the details I had given them. I explained to them about my injuries but they said it was due to my wife protecting herself from me. When it came down to the facts my prints were all over the firearm and the insurance money I would receive was a big factor. My fate was sealed right there and then. Unless this man was caught I would be found guilty and sentenced to life imprisonment or worse…death.

The trail began on the 3rd of August, one of the biggest cases to be seen in the county that year. It progressed for three weeks and it took a jury of six men and women to find me guilty as charged. The judge sentenced me to death by lethal injection. As I left the courtroom as voice from above in the balcony shouted down
“How do you feel now you sick bastard!”

Two years down the road and after three suicide attempts I sit remain imprisoned. I’m still waiting. Many people have passed my cell and walked that journey never to return again. I lie in bed and wonder how it feels like to have a toxin injected into your bloodstream. Is it painful? How long does it take?

Today the prison officer handed me some sheets of paper and suggested to me that I write my confessions and so I sit here now and write. I want the world to know that this is the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help me God. Why would I lie now? I’ve nothing to live for. I just want rest. I just want to die.

Last night I got the news from the Chief himself that I will be next to visit that final destination. It’s no big shock. I have been expecting this from day one. The worse thing is that I’ve spent all this time waiting. Younger people have come and gone before me. They’ve not had to suffer with this mental burden.

However nothing could have prepared me for what was to follow. How would you have felt if somebody had told you it had all been a conspiracy to lock you up for the sake of a father trying to protect his bastard son?



Chief Irons was not alone when he came to visit my cell…No he decided to bring junior along with him. Almost as a way to kick you when a person is at their lowest. A way to say ‘Fuck You, I got away and you’ve rotted in here for me!’ At a first glance at this person I instantly knew who he was and what he had inflicted on me.

I had no idea that his father was the Chief and that it had all been on big pack of lies to get me in here while he got away a free man. However looking in to those eyes of the Chief it was like being back in my home and looking into those eyes of his son. No come to think of it they were worse. A man of his power and stature nothing more than scum just like his son.

I write these last few words while looking at the Chief and his fellow Officers approach my cell, bringing with them my timely death. With this pencil I use now it is my key to happiness. I cannot be saved but I will have my revenge. All I need is one chance. With their pistols they will draw my blood but I will draw his first…!