guilty // phan au

1.

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hey, author here :)

Just wanted to say that I believe in random capitalisation sometimes, so any non-caps are purposeful. :9

enjoyyyy

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"You killed my parents." Philip Lester spat, his eyes and head down as he looked through rusty iron bars to a black-hearted murderer.

"For the last time, Phil. I didn't do it!" Dan replied, trying to catch Phil's attention with his eyes.

Phil looked up and murmured: "Prove it."

And that is what this story is: proof.

Evidence. That's all that the judges wanted from me.

Evidence that I hadn't killed the Lester's, evidence that I was not even there at the time. Evidence that I was innocent.

Problem was, that there isn't any.

But I didn't do it.

"Daniel Howell, for the last time, give us the necklace!"

The judges shout at me, the men holding my cuffs together shaking me to confess.

"For the last time, I don't have it!" My body was filled with rage.

The necklace was the most valuable possession in the house, and had gone missing the same day that the family was murdered. The court assumed that it was the murderer, which was apparently me.

The story believed by the townspeople is that I tried to rob the Lester's of their priceless jewellery, however one of the family members saw me robbing them and screamed, alerting everyone they were being stolen from. In order to 'hide the evidence', I apparently killed them all and left without a trace. Unbelievable.

I don't understand how anyone could actually believe what was being told to them. I'm a teenager. I may not have a perfect reputation but they still can't be serious, right?

"Mr. Philip Lester, you are our only witness. Tell us anything and everything about Daniel."

I hated how I was only called 'Daniel' and Phil got some stupid name because he was more important. Bullshit.

But my thoughts on Lester changed quickly at this very moment.

He stood from his seat in the front row of the court and walked over to me. Staring me right in the eyes, he shook my wrists and I scoffed at the fact he was trying to seem suspicious and intrigued in the topic.

I did feel sorry for him though, he had just lost his family. However, he thought I had killed them.

I glared back at him.

Phil turned around to look up at the judge.

"I believe him."

I stood there shocked.

He was joking, right? The same man who had walked up to my temporary jail cell only an hour before my trial and spat at me in horror now... believes me?

I was free.

Or so I thought.

"Escort him away." The judge said dismissively, and gestured for the guards to pull Phil away from me. I suddenly burst.

"This is a joke, right?! You're not serious, are you?! That's the son of the family who were killed and you're locking him away-" I shouted and yelled for Phil and I's freedom but it was no use.

More guards streamed towards me from the sides of the court hall, and one dared to put his thumb to my throat, choking me slightly.

"Let. Him. Go." I spluttered through gritted teeth and an aching neck.

The judge glared at me as I still spat and coughed with such little oxygen.

"Is this some game for you, Howell? Do you expect me to just let him go now you've told me to?" Blinking in disbelief, I stared back at him, refusing to take in what he was saying.

Finally, I saw the judge look deep into my eyes and sigh. I thought he had given in: the power of empathy over logic.

"Daniel Howell is clearly seen guilty and is sentenced to die at dusk tomorrow. Case closed."

He said it so swiftly it seemed like he thought it was nothing. As the guards attempted to pull me into my chamber until dusk tomorrow as I screeched and yelled, struggling to break away, I saw Phil once more. He saw me too, and for a second, there was a connection. Almost like he felt bad for me, like he...

Cared.

Not that it mattered, I was going to die soon anyways.

Because I was guilty of murder.

It wasn't the Lester's though.