I'mreallybadattitles

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My body twitched. I had to restrain myself from losing control. I had to sit quietly while the defense presented their argument. Just listening to them made me sick. Their so called 'evidence' was all personal opinion or theory. Nothing was fact! But oh, how hard they tried to get their point across, to defend a murderer; it absolutely disgusted me! A minute more of this and I just might throw a table at their lead attorney, Michael. He finally finished a took a seat beside the accused. Now, it was my turn.

I stood confidently before the jury. Opening my files, I breathed deeply, mentally preparing what I was about to say. "Members of the jury, allow me to present my case. This man, that these people call innocent, is a murderer. He was the cause of our victims death. For starters, the defendant had plenty of motive to kill. The victim assaulted the defendant twice, broke his hand, owes him money, and has been stealing from him for the past few months.The defendant had plenty of time to plan the victims death, though that can not be proven if he did so or not. But, a very strange thing, people of the jury, is that after everything the victim has done to him, the defendant hires him. Now, why would any man do that?"

Michael stood up. "Why?" He chuckled lightly to himself. "But to make amends! My client just wanted to put the past behind and give the victim another chance." Michael sat back down, a delighted smirk on his face, as the jury mumbled in agreement at his claims.

I glared at him, but he didn't budge. He just sat there with that stupid smirk of his. "I have a witness who had been with the defendant for all of the occurrences I previously stated. He said that after the second assault, he had talked with the defendant. He stated that the defendant had said that it was foolish for him to trust the victim. Michael, if you'd please explain to me, to all of us, why your 'client' would suddenly trust the victim? Especially with his store's merchandise." Michael's smirk vanished in an instant. His cheek muscle jerked and his jaw was set. I'd finally made it through the first layer. 

He stood up slowly. I took the time to openly enjoy seeing him like this, frustrated and unsure. "M-my client.." He straightened himself and cleared his throat. What a shame, I was getting ready to shove his papers down it. "My client took pity on the man, for he had no job or any education whatsoever." He exhaled and sat back down, looking over at me once more. And there it was, that damn grin! But what he didn't know was that he had just given me the perfect chance to get rid of that grin of his and his no good murderer for good.

"Well, that's just it, Michael. Your client knew of the victims lack of education. He knew the victim was stealing from him, specifically his beer and other alcoholic drinks. And yet, the very trip he sends the victim on is to retrieve goods, one of these said goods being Wood Alcohol, an extremely deadly poison. What raises my attention is why on earth your client would need this poison in the first place. The defendant is well educated, he can read;therefore, he is well aware to what he purchased. So, if the defendant truly felt pity on this poor soul, why didn't he tell him he'd be handling poison?"

Once again Michael laughs to himself as he stands. He thinks he's got everything under control, that he's a step ahead of me- "My dear Liz, do you really think someone like the victim would listen to such a warning from a man like my client, especially with their history? From someone who knows that he has been stealing from him? I think not. It would have done no good to do so." - Boy was he wrong.

"True. The victim may not have heeded any warning from him. But why would your client put him in such a situation that could have easily been avoided?" Michael looks at me, confused and worried. I enjoy seeing him perplexed by my statement.. 

"Could you please explain, Liz?" the Judge asked. I nodded.

"Gladly. You see, the defendant still had his first employee working for him part-time. Since the victim would not heed any warning, and it's the boss's job to ensue the safety of his workers, why not just send someone who would?"

Michael leaped from his seat, his chair flying out from under him. "Lies!" He shouts, his finger pointed angrily at me. His whole body shook with sudden rage. "All of it, it's all lies! She's a liar!"

My own sudden fury matched his. "They are not lies! His first employee still worked for him. If the defendant hadn't wished the victim dead and followed proper regulation, he would have sent his first employee! The defendant is guilty! He's a murderous criminal!"

"My client is innocent! He did not do what your accusations claim!" Michael shouted.

"Quiet!" The judge shouted in the background.

"Your client deserves to rot in a cell!" I shouted back.

"I said be QUIET!" We both grew silent. "Thank you. It is now time for the jury to determine the defendant's fate." I walked calmly back over to my seat. Michael found his chair and pulled it up to his table. We glared at one another in the long silence, waiting.

Finally, the jury returned, announcing that they had made a decision. "The jury agrees that the accused is... innocent."

My heart stopped. Michael and his team leaped for joy. They won. Red hot fury rushed through my veins. I couldn't think straight. I wasn't going to let the son of a bitch walk free, not this time.

In an instant, I flipped the table over. Papers were flying everywhere. I pulled out a hidden pistol that was tucked in my shirt. The first round went into the jury member declaring his innocence, then, the rest of them. Idiots who would let a cold-hearted bastard like him walk don't deserve to live. A security officer charged at me. I kicked him in the groin and he was instantly on the floor. Grabbing his gun, I put a bullet through his skull. In the corner of my eye, I saw someone running. It was the murderous bastard himself. Aiming carefully, I got a perfect shot through his black, withered heart. And damn, did it feel good.

With that out of the way, I maneuvered over to Michael's table. I flipped it over and found the coward curled in a ball underneath it. "My dear Michael, does an innocent man run?" I blew the smoke out and away from the barrel of the dead security officer's gun, and grinned. "I think not." The greatest feeling of all came from shooting the cock sucker between the eyes like the animal he was. 

I suddenly jolted awake. I looked around me, confused. Michael was sitting with his crew at his table, and the jury had just arrived, muttering a few last words to each other. The tables were upright, papers in order, and no one dead. I tapped around my waist line and shirt. No pistol. A jury member stood up and turned to us, speaking in a loud, sure voice. "The jury finds the accused... guilty."