Alone I Fall

I plead to every God who exists that today will be the day true justice reigns supreme from my own ambition to recover my virtue which I have lost because of my own grave mistakes. As I sit within this courtroom I know nothing will ever be the same again, and I fear the poor man seated with such diligence who reminds me of the man I used to be fills me with an unholy abundance of sorrow for what I have become will be found guilty of a crime he did not commit. My own trembling body refuses to look away from the man with the most pitiful stare I have ever witnessed. I can sense the aura of wrath my peers on this jury feel towards the suspect, and the anguish that lacerates their impartial hearts of what they believe he did. Oh, if only they knew of the criminal who had truly committed the terrible murder, then I would not be in this unforgetablly dire situation. I am incredibly alone, I am not like any human who sits within these walls built by men. It is not him who killed that man, it is I. Oh, the almighty Gods! I beg you to give me the strength to overcome this atrocity of a creature I have become. Why can’t I simply stand up and object against the jury? Why can’t I tell them of the truth they deserve to hear? Am I truly a vile monster who wishes it could get away with the horrible crime? I close my eyes and look towards the floor. I cannot bear the pain. The tears which I try to hold back suddenly pour out. A dear human supports me by gently rubbing my back. It was Luna, oh dear Luna! Do not care for such a filthy being, it is not the tears of innocence that leak! I cannot smile at her, her lips move but I hear no sound. My dear Luna must have been saying something comforting, but I could not hear her. My mind was too focused on my guilt and my body was breaking down. Luna, move away, do not touch my tainted skin. It once held the blood of the man you mourn over. Do not comfort the beast you wish to destroy. Do not trust me, and for the love of God, please see through me. I can feel the storm approaching, the judge is about to reveal his verdict.

“I find the suspect to be—”

I do not care for the answer to be spoken, and a sudden urge to act bestows upon me. “Innocent!” I yell as I jolt up.

Every head turns to look in my direction. Luna whispers my name in concern.

“That man is innocent,” I point. “He is innocent and I know of the real criminal.”

Not a word was spoken by another man, not a single sigh.

Here I stand and face my future. “Because,” I say. I know what is right and what must be done, yet why is it so difficult? “Because,” I repeat, “it is I.” As soon as I uttered those words, I heard a gasp and the courtroom filled with confusion. “I,” I pause. “I am the murderer.”

“What are you saying?” the judge demands.

“I am the murderer, I am the criminal who you seek.”

“It can’t be,” says Luna.

“It is,” I say, “I’m sorry.”

“You were at the hospital during the night of the murder,” says one.

“Yes, because I was struck by lightning.”

“This man admitted to the murder and we have a stack of evidence to support that he is the one in question,” says another.

“That evidence must point to me, it must be layered with ambiguity to point towards that innocent man.”

“It is impossible. How can you be in two places at once?”

“I was not. I took up the responsibility to aid the man who came covered in blood. I should have declined, I should have rested, yet I took on a task I could not complete successfully.”

“Doctor, it was your duty to help the man, not save him.”

“You don’t understand. I did not help him, on his chest was taped a message which read: ‘doctor, do not aid.’ He was a frail old man.”

“You cannot help someone unwillingly, it is not your fault. This man refused to call for help when he knew the old gentleman to be in danger because of his actions!”

“No, you do not understand. How was I so sure the message was written by the old man? How was I so sure he wished to die?”

“Doctor, the message was confirmed to be written by the deceased. We sent it to five different handwriting experts who all agreed it to be written by the dead.”

No, it is not right. Something has changed me, after that bolt struck me. “It was not right of me to get back to duty after only a day of recovery.”

“It is not your fault,” the jury assured.

Oh, how I wish I could believe them. That pitiful stare the suspect showed now stares towards me. My God, is this what I must have looked like to the gray man before I chose to do what I did? The forgotten obituaries screamed of an unknown force so inclined to be death yet seemed so far away from it, and now I believe I know of the horrors they wished to convey. A cut straight through the artery led to an enormous amount of blood to clog and for the patient to succumb to his inflictions. A place between good and evil. A place between justice and corruption. A place between life and death. A place of relief and uncertainty. I’m sure justice will be served today, although I'm not sure what will happen to me. But, do I really care? I curse the foul thing I have become. “My dear God!” I yell. There laid across the wall the shadow of the monster I saw before! In a quick glimpse of the illumination the lightning provided I saw the beast. Its sharp claws, or maybe it was its teeth. The round silhouette which turned into a chaos of jagged sharp edges. A long boned wing with the hide of pure black reached towards me, but this time it was I who was reaching towards the man with the pitiful stare. Take it back! Take it back! No, please, move away! The figures went on, flapping their lips away. They were conversing with one another. I swear it was I who committed the atrocity. In a swift act of granting a prayer, I played with the insides of the man with a disturbing amount of aspiration. I remember how I paused when I saw scarlet stains stuck upon my palms which held the blade. I leapt over the guard and threw myself towards the man, but before I could reach him the security got ahold of me. I yelled, screamed, and wept. The pain was unbearable. The saturated white halls oozed with a glittering red as the sliding tomb was followed by a constant ringing. I didn’t say anything that could be made out as words. My spit wet my left cheek as my head laid flat on the floor with the giants lying across my spine. The bright windows caused my left eye to be burnt yet I kept it open. Half my face was illuminated by the sun and I stared straight into it because I knew it to be God punishing me for my sins. Not long after, the blood rushing to my head caused me to lose consciousness, but the thought echoing in my mind told me of the destiny I sought.

I have set to accomplish what the remainder of my heart aches to finish. If the court will not accompany me to my death, then from the soaring heights of my apartment: I’ll go alone.