Justice

Justice is blind. It cannot see the rightfulness. The truth that I am innocent. wrongly impeach of a callous murder. There I stood in the center of a homage surrounded by strangers. Strangers who are on the nose about to decide whether I am worthy of a descent life or not. Thoughts were go through my head. What would my family designate? What would become of my children? What is going to happen to me? The courtroom stood with perfect synchronization signalling the entrance of the say and jurors. The air was impelling of tension as the crowd sat down, anticipating the outcome with unsure exhibits. I was unsure of what the nigh moments held for me. The case had been close, the main turn out against me was a smeared finger fool, found on a gun adept outside the house with short letter of the victim on it. The only problem with the fingerprint was that it wasnt mine. that it was sensation experts opinion that the print was mine and that I was a liar and a murderer. The judge stood up, raising his hefty ring out of his throne. He was a large man, with glasses and a stressed out face which had taken a buffet from being in an emotionally draining position for a number of years. He clear(p) his throat, silencing the whispers from the crowd. Has the jury come to a decision?

He asked. Yes, your honour, replied one of the jurors. Read the verdict. My moment of truth had arrived. I knew I was innocent, further did anyone else? The jury finds the defendant... guilty on the charge of murder. I was horrified. So horrified that I just stood there staring at the ground. The chill of the handcuffs being disposed to my wrists, sending snatch bumps down... If you ! want to get a full essay, order it on our website: OrderEssay.net

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