NO JUSTICE - LONG SLEEVES - BLACK
PART 4 - CHAPTER 3
The clean, perfumed cell of the courthouse is a change from the smell of piss from the 48-hour custody I’ve just endured. I engrave in my memory the sexy sound of my public defender’s high heels echoing in the corridor. Something tells me I won’t be hearing it again soon... Locked up like a caged feline, burning in the flames of hell, I can already imagine the outcome of my trial. How to make them understand that the pile of corpses scattered in this villa rented in my name was not the result of my work. I was the victim, some guys had come to put holes in me, and I was the one sitting there. I hadn’t spoken, I took the first place like a man. According to the lawyer, I was safe. But I had learned to distrust the justice system, the police, who hunt down pot smokers and let killers go free. My fingerprints on that gun with the erased serial number, the impact of the bloody images of the crime scene... There is no justice, there is only a defendant and raw, unbearable pictures under the jurors’ noses. The prosecutor says ten years, the judge says five, I’ll probably only do half that. It doesn’t matter. In the cell truck that takes me to the prison, I think about Sarah. It wasn’t fair, I had a few years to prepare my revenge. No justice, no peace.
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