A Cup of Restraint

My Release

I was an outcast already, a graduating senior with only one friend who was an underclassman. Since I hadn't had anyone to stand with me I should have seen it coming. Yet despite my not guilty pleas I had been convicted. Death had been my sentence.

However, six years later I was finally free. In the time since I seen this world it had changed considerably. Yet there are still two things that remain, I am still an out cast, and they still think I am guilty. Through my years in jail Matt, my only friend, had continued to write me and I always responded. We wrote about how our high school life had continued and what we planned to do after I got out. It was comforting to know that I still had someone who believed me. My sentence was deserved for the crimes pinned on me, the brutal murders of five of my classmates. I seemed a perfect suspect. Perhaps I was, after all I had despised my fellow class and they had abandoned me, left me to my only Friend. I had been known to come off cold and calculated, somewhat a genius in my own right. Perhaps this Is why I had been abandoned.

What had prompted my release? A blurred memory. The state's key witness had thought they seen a second person. The sum of the other evidence had pointed to me as a calculated person who wouldn't have taken the risk with a second individual. That and the fact that I didn't have anyone to help me. And I wouldn't have, but than again they were there by accident, just like the other witness. However, the fingerprints they found that proved they were there, didn't prove they were an accident or even who they were.This had released me from my little share of the hell known to the world as a prison. The media had been in a frenzy at my arrest yet when I exited the gates of the jail only Matt was waiting.

He wanted to know if I had done it. I told him I didn't, the same thing I always did, just a little more relieved. After all I was no longer a dead man walking. He also seemed relieved, while he had other friends than me I had always been his best friend. So as my hopes had been diminishing and his efforts and budget got smaller, so did his spirit. I had tried to gain more friends in the jail while I was there, but those who were charged similarly thought I was a wimp, and had in no way done anything, but those with lower charges were terrified of me. Why were they afraid? The murders of my class men were not classified as normal. That's why I had been placed in this high security prison. The only other people here were hackers endangering the entire nation or serial killers and rapist's. You always had to watch your back. This was why Matt and I had always written. We had to protect ourselves from the hackers. They were always trying to organize ways to get me killed off quicker.