Guilty. 'My son! My son! You bastard, you've killed my boy!' Guilty. 'Turn and face the warden.' Guilty. 'No matter how far you run, I will hunt you down.' Guilty. 'Please don't do this.' Guilty. 'You'll only ever reap what you sow, boy.' Guilty. 'You're nothing but a murderer!' Guilty. 'If you start runnin', you might just make it home alive.' Guilty. 'How could you do this!?' Guilty. 'You can't even look me in the face, can you.' Guilty. 'After meeting you, I have to believe that some men are beyond redemption.' Guilty. 'I hereby sentence the Defendant to-'
Guilty.
Connan awoke with a start, drenched in cold sweat. His hands relaxed the grip they held on a pair of revolvers, lying on the bare mattress with him as he begun to understand it was a dream. Just a dream.
Or a memory.
Sun Dec 28, 2008 6:20 am