I watched it all like a Broadway show from the sidelines of my front row seat, wanting to be heard but unable to speak. The courtroom became a stage – I felt scared and alone. So, this is justice? My trial was filled with more theatrics than the actual shootout I endured. This can’t be real. As I think back, I realize how much I’ve changed. I look out the window and I see life floating by, and I ask myself, “Where will I go from here?”
I see the crime scene. It fills me with disappointment even though it was years ago. I was shot, man-hunted, caught, attacked by a K-9 before I was made to walk the humiliating mile to the ambulance -knowing my life would be forever changed while suffering from injuries that still sting deep into my heart. I recall the verdict coming in as I awaited my fate by people appointed to give their opinion on matters of my case. I sat through testimonies of eye-witnesses for and against me, telling the judge and jury their recollection of an incident we all experienced from different lenses.
So this is my life. Charged. Convicted of attempted murder. With no wife, I can only embrace my worst fears of being locked up. I am alone, reduced to tears. No applaud – just the dimming of lights on the final curtain call.
Brandon A. is an inmate currently living at Plainfield Correctional Facility. He is a participant of Indiana Prison Writers Workshop. Once released, he plans on pursuing a career in culinary arts by operating a food truck while continuing writing.