AUTOGENOUS

Dennis, Jacob, and Maleah are in a courtroom. Time almost moves slow for Dennis, he looks into the floor with a dark filter in his eyes. Nothing matters anymore. A couple dozen reporters desperately trying to get any information about the time heists pulled off, flashing photos and asking questions to the three on trial as they are escorted to the front of the room.

"All rise for the judge..." the officer says as the judge approaches the stand. His shoes imprint heavy rings throughout the room. They echo into Dennis's ears, each step feeling like another year he'll be locked up. Jacob twiddles a toothpick in between his lips as his tongue flips it around. He sits with his legs up on the table, without any regret. An officer walks toward him and takes his toothpick from his mouth, throwing it on the ground. Jacob looks at the officer in disgust. Maleah sits to the right of Jacob, very opposite of him. She sits perfectly, legs at a perfect ninety degree angle. Her back straight up. Her hands folded on the table as she looks at the judge. Occasionally she will look down to the picture frame of her brother. She smirks and shakes her head. She does not fear upcoming sentence. And Dennis also sits without any fear of a sentence, but also without any care much like Jacob. He has become a blend of the two. He sinks into the chair, tuning out the courtroom.

"Mr. Dennis Josiah Brann you are being charged and questioned of the following crimes... Speeding of the first degree, Auto theft of the 3rd degree, Damage to Government Property in the 1st degree, Theft of Government Owned Property in the 2nd degree, Identity Theft of Government Employees of the 1st degree, Breaching of Governmental Property of the 3rd degree." The judge finishes the list and looks up toward Dennis studying the wooden table his cold hands lay upon, "How do you plead?" Dennis does not respond. "Mr. Brann?... Are you paying attention to me?"

"Yes your honor, I am."

"So how do you plead?"

"Guilty your honor..." He responds without looking up. Jacob and Maleah look at him in discomfort and confusion. They do not understand why he would willingly open to being guilty of these crimes. They would never understand. They would never understand the pain he has gone through knowing he himself caused his own exile, from the very beginning. Dennis awaits his punishment. 

"Mrs. Maleah Linus Domelli you're being charged not only for support in all of those crimes but also an extended sentence based upon your deception in regards to your previous occupation how do you plead?" Asks the judge. She looks around the room looking for her brother, he is nowhere to be seen. She looks down back at her hands and addresses the judge.

"Guilty your honor..." She replies. The judge nods and looks down to his papers.

"Makes my job easier... Mr. Jacob Cheadle Living  you're begin charged with the same crimes as Mr. Brann how do you plead?" 

Without hesitation Jacob belts from his mouth as his hands circling his lips to echo through the room, "GUILTY your honor", he replies before smiling. The three are handcuffed and separated from each other. 

Dennis is now in a dark room, sitting at a table, handcuffed of course, across a dimly lighted table is an officer. "Mr. Dennis J. Brann, tomorrow night at midnight you will be fastened on a prison bus headed to The California State Prison of Los Angeles County where you will serve fifteen years alongside your associate Mr. Jacob S. Living. That is thirty two hours from now... Is there anywhere you would like me to take you? Maybe someone you'd like to see before you're locked up?"

Dennis looks up at the officer and says, "could you take me to Denver?"

The officer looks up to Dennis in question, "What's in Denver?"

Fourteen Hours Later

The protagonist walks in inches of snow, as flakes of a million designs fall around him. The police escort waits along the sidewalk. Dennis in tied in handcuffs limping towards a light, towards a frosted window looking into a warm home. He is dark, and isolated. While he gets closer to the warmth, he remains cold and forgotten. He looks against the glass, into the home. It is a family reunion, from across the country reunited, happy and loving. The protagonist is cold, weak, and alone.

Inside the home there are siblings joking and arguing, warm. There are aunts and uncles pitching their ideas for the next meals of the reunion, warm. There are mothers and their children rocking back and forth in chairs drifting off to sleep, warm. There are grandparents sitting in front of the warm fire, warm. And in the center of it all, the warmest of all in the room, is a tall, broad man, a man that Dennis would only hope to dream of being. He is slowly dancing, lovingly, passionately, and carefully in fact, in the center of the carpet with Dennis's ex fiancé. She is happily, and healthily dancing.

A U T O G E N O U S

Cooper Flora