Categories > Celebrities > 30 Seconds to Mars > Flase Justice
Flase Justice
0 reviewsLocked up in an asylum with a murder charge on his hands, Jared must find a way to get out and get past the things stalking him in his mind.
1Exciting
Chapter One
They told me I was crazy. That's why I had to stay behind a locked door and take my food through a window. I tried to tell them that the only reason I was getting a little insane was because I was cooped up in this small room but they wouldn't hear any of that. Constantly during my sessions with my assigned doctor they would ask me what I remembered, demand of me to just please remember something. I never could. They couldn't see that my inability to re-capture memories killed me more then it would ever affect them.
All I remembered was that I used to work here. A graveyard security guard who got off his shift and slept through most of the day. I had a girlfriend here. A sweet little nurse who used to stop by my post for some fun on my break. Where had she gone? I told them that she would be able to tell me something about what happened before but they insisted that I made her up. That was crazy talk. How could I make up cherry flavored lip gloss and soft hands in my hair? Made no sense but they insisted. One can never really fight against authority.
I knew what I was in here for and the thought terrified me beyond my own imagination. I had supposedly killed a woman in her cell one night during my shift and had locked myself in the room with her before blacking out. Blacking out and not remembering anything once I woke up. A doctor had found me during his morning runs and had immediately called the police. It was a whirlwind of confusion for me as I was taken from one place to the next before finally settling here in a locked room without any access to the outside world. I was apparently dangerous. There was one problem that didn't work out however in my case file. How could I have locked myself inside the room with my murdered patient if the rooms only locked from the outside? That was brushed aside, an unimportant detail that could be overlooked. A miscarriage of justice that wouldn't ever be justified.
None of it made sense to me and the thought that I could have done something so heinous made me not want to make sense of it at all. The thought was overwhelming, terrible and - to my clear mind - entirely impossible. But what could I do? It didn't look likely that I was getting out of here. No one ever did when served with a life sentence in a maximum security asylum but hell a man can dream, can't he?
I tried to always be on my best behavior knowing it would work to make the security on me a bit more lenient. It was driving me crazy walking on eggshells, feeling my mind numbing with each pill they put in my mouth, hating the silence that ached all around me. But I bore through it. Didn't model prisoners get their releases quicker than others?
I stood up off the safely set bed once I heard a guard walk by, his keys jingling at his waist. My eyes squeezed shut, a flash shot through my head. My own hand fumbling with a set of keys, my ears pierced with the sound of their clatter. I heard a girls laughter and felt arms go around my waist, felt lips on mine.
"Hey! Hey get your damned food!" Shouted the security guard from behind the door. He had the tray though the window.
I looked up at him startled out of my thoughts. Everything blurred for a moment until my vision refocused. I walked slowly towards the door and took the tray from his hands. He looked at me a bit pissed off before walking away.
I sat down, the tray in my lap and began to eat the sandwich that could have been made on a hot desert day. My head was aching. That had been happening a lot lately. Shots of images, sounds but never anything really clear. I had to get out of here was what it was. I had to prove to them that I wasn't crazy but this was their sentence for me and how does one outweigh the hands of false justice?
They told me I was crazy. That's why I had to stay behind a locked door and take my food through a window. I tried to tell them that the only reason I was getting a little insane was because I was cooped up in this small room but they wouldn't hear any of that. Constantly during my sessions with my assigned doctor they would ask me what I remembered, demand of me to just please remember something. I never could. They couldn't see that my inability to re-capture memories killed me more then it would ever affect them.
All I remembered was that I used to work here. A graveyard security guard who got off his shift and slept through most of the day. I had a girlfriend here. A sweet little nurse who used to stop by my post for some fun on my break. Where had she gone? I told them that she would be able to tell me something about what happened before but they insisted that I made her up. That was crazy talk. How could I make up cherry flavored lip gloss and soft hands in my hair? Made no sense but they insisted. One can never really fight against authority.
I knew what I was in here for and the thought terrified me beyond my own imagination. I had supposedly killed a woman in her cell one night during my shift and had locked myself in the room with her before blacking out. Blacking out and not remembering anything once I woke up. A doctor had found me during his morning runs and had immediately called the police. It was a whirlwind of confusion for me as I was taken from one place to the next before finally settling here in a locked room without any access to the outside world. I was apparently dangerous. There was one problem that didn't work out however in my case file. How could I have locked myself inside the room with my murdered patient if the rooms only locked from the outside? That was brushed aside, an unimportant detail that could be overlooked. A miscarriage of justice that wouldn't ever be justified.
None of it made sense to me and the thought that I could have done something so heinous made me not want to make sense of it at all. The thought was overwhelming, terrible and - to my clear mind - entirely impossible. But what could I do? It didn't look likely that I was getting out of here. No one ever did when served with a life sentence in a maximum security asylum but hell a man can dream, can't he?
I tried to always be on my best behavior knowing it would work to make the security on me a bit more lenient. It was driving me crazy walking on eggshells, feeling my mind numbing with each pill they put in my mouth, hating the silence that ached all around me. But I bore through it. Didn't model prisoners get their releases quicker than others?
I stood up off the safely set bed once I heard a guard walk by, his keys jingling at his waist. My eyes squeezed shut, a flash shot through my head. My own hand fumbling with a set of keys, my ears pierced with the sound of their clatter. I heard a girls laughter and felt arms go around my waist, felt lips on mine.
"Hey! Hey get your damned food!" Shouted the security guard from behind the door. He had the tray though the window.
I looked up at him startled out of my thoughts. Everything blurred for a moment until my vision refocused. I walked slowly towards the door and took the tray from his hands. He looked at me a bit pissed off before walking away.
I sat down, the tray in my lap and began to eat the sandwich that could have been made on a hot desert day. My head was aching. That had been happening a lot lately. Shots of images, sounds but never anything really clear. I had to get out of here was what it was. I had to prove to them that I wasn't crazy but this was their sentence for me and how does one outweigh the hands of false justice?
Sign up to rate and review this story