The Trial

Chapter 1 - Edited

I'm standing in a room surrounded by pewter; the walls, floor, ceiling, clothes of the guards, my own prison garb. Not even the podium is free from are this dull gray that offends my senses almost as much as the smell of dust and misery. I learned a long time ago just how bad the smell of human suffering can be, but at least I'm not being held and tried at one of those wretched places.

The only people in this room, besides myself are the two armed guards and the judges wearing their dingy, black robes who have long sense lost any sense of their humanity. Nine men and women stand before me and don't hide their hatred for my crimes, of which I freely admit to have committed. Their ancient faces with dull eyes look down at me in their arrogance. I want to scream out at each and every one of them, but my mouth is gagged and all I can do is stare with hatred of my own.

The cuffs continue to chafe my wrists, but I haven't bled in a while, which denies them any sense of satisfaction. These judges like to see a little blood, but prefer it to be on some part of the body that isn't the face. Damaging the face makes something look forced, which is the last thing they want from me. They want the world to hear my confession and put on a good show, which I plan to give, but it's not the show they're expecting.

The judge directly in front of me is the Chief Justice of the People's Court. All of the judges are whispering with the eagerness of bringing a quick end of this show trial and ending my life. Justice has not been served in a great many years and there will be no justice today. If there were justice, real justice, these judges and the other two would be on trial, not me and the countless who've gone before me.

The Chief Justice takes her seat and the others follow like overgrown lemmings. Silence reigns over the large room until she received the signal the cameras are on and the world watches her brand of justice take place. Her eyes try to burn into mine to remind me of my place and smile as wide as my bound mouth will allow.

She speaks in a practiced tone to remind the world of the state's control over more than just me as her eyes move to one of the guards. "Prepare to release the prisoner's gag." Her eyes return to mine before continuing with her rehearsed lines. "I warn you to watch your words with this respected body of the state. Any outburst will be added to your crimes. Do I make myself clear, prisoner?"

I want to ask her how adding to the charges against me will result in any additional punishment. My life is already forfeit and won't live past today, but the gag prevents my words from releasing their venom on these fools. All I can do is nod my understanding, which is necessary to release my tongue. The Chief Justice motions to one of the guards and the gag releases from my mouth with more force than necessary, but I won't give the satisfaction of showing just how much it hurt.

The Chief Justice remains silent for a moment to let the camera get a closer look at my face with the expectation of tears. "Prisoner, you have been charged with the most serious crime any citizen can commit against the state. The crime of refusal. The execution will be held after the trial concludes. Do you understand?"