Any+Final+Words,+Georgia

I sat in the courtroom in my orange jumpsuit. I could hear the squeaking of shoes on the nicely polished floors.

“All rise for Judge Victoria.” I stood up, my handcuffs cutting in to my wrists. I sat down once the judge got to the desk.

“This case is open. Ms Holt. Ms Janet Holt, you are being charged with 1st degree murder. How do you plead?”

//This is where I lie,// “Innocent.”

//I did it but I can’t go to jail. It doesn’t have what I need. I was high I was drunk. Send me to rehab - anything but jail I-//

 “Please send in the first witness.” The judge cut off my thoughts. I looked the witness in the eye, and realised he was the boy I used to bully. I was going to go to jail. I just knew it. The boy smirked at me. I straightened my posture and put a brave look on my face. It was hard without my make up but I tried. The boy smirked at me. I knew I could kiss my life goodbye.

I sat in silence trying to think about how I got caught. I had been so careful. //Was I drinking?// No, I hadn't had a drink in ten years. //Was I high?// No I didn't do drugs.

Then I remembered. I was angry because Debbie had hit my little brother. //Debbie. My step mother//. I defended my brother and killed //her//. John, my dad, screamed at me so I put the gun to his head and pulled the trigger. I had done this all in front of my little brother. //I am a monster,// I sat thinking to myself, until the recess.

That witness, Joe, had made me seem guilty. Which I guess I was.

“Look. Ms Holt. We are losing this case and you could be charged with a capital offence. You will probably be convicted and either have a lifetime consecutive sentence or face capital punishment,” my lawyer sighed.

The Court reporter had written down everything my lawyer said. If I was found guilty, I would ether go to jail, or die. This was truly the end for me.

At last the judge and jury had made their final decision. //But I had them right where I wanted them//.

“Ms Janet Holt. The jury has decided and you have been found guilty. The punishment is death by electric chair next week Tuesday at 11:00. Case dismissed.”

A week later I sat in the chair, waiting to take my last breath of life.

“Any final words?” my executioner asked. As he said these words, the lights went out and I felt the buckles of the straps around my arms and legs unbuckling.

My last words would not be coming for a long time.