My eyes seem to be forcing themselves open that night. They are wide with fear and red with insomnia and stained with leftover tears that I haven’t bothered to wipe off.
The minutes tick by. I contemplate and consider and reflect through sleepless hours and lucid dreams but I can’t seem to find the answer, the treasure that I’m desperately digging for.
I should have asked the police officer more questions. What was his name again? I should know by now; he’s been there every time I’ve gotten caught. Maybe Jim? I’ll call him Jim. I should have asked Jim more, but I was just so shocked that I ran home the second he excused me, in hope that I would think of a solution, in anguish that this was happening to me, in delusion that maybe I won’t be found guilty. But they always find a way to find people guilty.
The reality is hitting me now, my delusions left behind; I cannot go to jail to spite men, especially with a sentence so long that I’ll be having a mid-life crisis by the time I’m released.
I tried to ask Jim what evidence they had, but he said that he wouldn’t tell me until I had a lawyer. He’ll help you, Jim had said. It was always he. Why couldn’t he consider that she could help me just as well, if not better? And why couldn’t they tell me what evidence they had for my own crime? It didn’t make sense. That should be illegal, I had thought at the time. They have to tell me. I think again, and maybe it is. Ironic, isn’t it – were they waiting for me to confess what they believed I did before they told me how I did it?
For some reason, even now, I’m apparently incompetent enough that I need a man to explain my problems to me. Like I don’t know what they are, even when I was the one getting mixed up in them.
I know I won’t get any sleep tonight, so instead of tossing and turning and wasting my precious time, I get up, walk to my desk, flinch at the bright light, and make a pro and con list.
Cons are easier, so I start with them. Unconventional, I know. My hands are trembling as I force myself to scrawl the words onto the paper.
Pros and Cons of pleading guilty:
Cons:
- if i manage to succeed with pleading innocent then i won’t have to go to jail yay
Pros:
- ill still have to go to court even if i deny it cause if they had enough evidence to arrest me there’s gonna be a trial for sure
- if the evidence proves that i did it then ill have to do a life sentence anyway
- i might as well plead guilty and see what the lowest charge i can be given is (hopefully i won’t get 30 years bc its different for minors i think)
Even though there’s more pros, the one con outweighs it. If I plead innocent, and I win the case, then I won’t go to jail. If I plead innocent, and I lose the case, then I’ll have to do what I would do anyway if I pleaded guilty, and I might not even get charged for first-degree murder. Plus, if I do end up in the same jail that I’ve been put in seven times, I know the tips and tricks. I’ve negotiated my way to safety, bribed my way into extra servings, discovered escape routes.
Pleading innocent at least gives me a chance to not be locked up.
The answer should be obvious.
But it’s not. There’s another pro, one that I haven’t let myself record, because I know it will make the decision so much more difficult.
I write it out in big bold letters.
IF I GO TO JAIL, I’LL BE FREE FROM HIM.