The Sentence
By Uncle Ben
11/12/2008

“All rise! The honorable judge Irwin Johnson presiding.”

Malcom Nord looks around the empty courtroom. There is a lawyer at his table, a lawyer at the other table, the bailiff, and now the judge. Oh no, not this judge. I've heard stories about him.

“Come to order.” It seems silly since all are silent. “Malcolm Nord, you are charged with the murder of Amanda Barnes in the first degree. How do you plead?”

“Not guilty, your honor.”

“Very well. Plaintiff, make your case.”

“Your honor, this video, exhibit A, shows the defendant with the victim on the night in question.”

“Last night?”

“Correct, your honor. Here we can see them entering the warehouse where they were found. Opening the door set off the silent alarm alerting the police officers.” The video ends.

“Exhibit B is also video footage from the inside of the warehouse. Here we see the two of them coming through the door and going behind some crates.”

Ha! They didn’t see what happened. I just have to stick to my story.

“The video continues until the time the police arrive and find the dead girl and the defendant with her blood and the murder weapon. I’m afraid that it’s not very interesting, your honor.”

“I understand. You can stop the video there,” the judge concedes.

“The prosecution rests, your honor.”

“Defense, your arguments.”

“The defense would like to tell the account of the events of last night from the perspective of the defendant.”

“Very well, proceed.”

“Your Honor,” Malcolm begins, “Last night, Amanda approached me with a problem. She was bleeding and no one would help her. I took her to the warehouse for privacy. As I was trying to help her, she bled to death.”

“Prosecution, cross examination?”

“Yes, your honor.”

“Proceed.”

“Sir, you say you were just helping her out?”

“Yes.”

“Your honor, I would like to show a bit more of Exhibit B before asking the next question.” The video turns on again. The video still shows the crates. “Your honor, since the warehouse has many crates and obstacles to block the view of the cameras, these were equipped with infrared sensors. Allow me to switch to that view.”

“Very well.”

The view shifts to a red body lying on the ground with another body kneeling over the other. The video shows the kneeling subject raising an arm over head and quickly thrusting downward. Upon the arm rising again, a bit of color defines something beyond the hand. With each stab the knife becomes more colored. The color drains from the one laying on the ground until only one body is visible. The video stops.

The prosecuting attorney turns to Malcolm, “Are you sure you were just helping her?”

“Your Honor, I wish to change my plea to not guilty by reason of insanity.”

“Nonsense. I have seen enough to make my judgment. On the count of Murder in the First Degree, I find the defendant guilty.” Malcolm lowers his head. What’s the punishment? Prison? I can handle prison. I might even get off with good behavior.
“The sentence for this crime is life.”

Malcolm’s head snaps up, “What?”

“Thank you, your honor.” The prosecuting attorney leaves.

“Bailiff, secure the defendant and follow me.”

“Yes, you honor.” Malcolm is ushered out of the courtroom and down a hall to an elevator. Inside the elevator, the judge swipes his card and they move downward. “B. B1. B2. B3. B4. B5.”

The elevator dings and the three step out into a cement area with machines all over. With practiced efficiency, Malcolm is quickly locked in a clear vertical container. “What’s going on here?”

A beam enters his chamber. His hair feels like it’s on fire. He reaches up and feels no hair, but his arms feel like they are catching on fire. He brings his hands down and sees parts of his sleeves are gone. The beam continues down burning off Malcolm’s clothing and hair. Malcolm pounds on the clear container, his rage overcoming his embarrassment.

Still ignoring him, the judge asks the bailiff, “Do you have it?”

“Yes, it was taken when she left the house that night.”

“Perfect. Let’s continue.” The judge turns to his prisoner, “You might want to stand as still as possible for this next part.”

“What are you doing?” The bailiff inserts a card into a machine.

“Preparing you for your sentence.” The machine lights green and a button is pushed.

The next beam touches his head and starts burning the inside of his skin. Instinctively Malcolm reaches up again and feels hair coming out. Realizing he’s supposed to stay still he brings his hands back down all the while glaring at his captors. Upon reaching his face, the beam moves faster, but not without burning everything. Next comes the throat followed by the chest. The beam slows at each for a while. Suddenly Malcolm feels unbalanced. He starts to fall forward but catches himself.

The beam continues down his body to his manlihood. There his torso burns worse than the rest of the process. He looks down to see what’s happening and finds that he has a new sets of breasts. He pushes them to the sides just in time to see the beam move on and his member gone.

“Arms down, please.”

“What are you doing to me?” They ignore him. “What are you doing to me?” The beam finishes shaping his legs and returns to his hands. Then the beam turns off. “Change me back!” His hands jump to his throat as he realizes his voice is higher now. In fact, the voice sounds familiar. “No,” he screams.

His mind quickly flashes to her begging him to stop. Over and over it plays. A slap wakes him up. Malcolm didn’t realize he was asleep. He does realize that he is no longer in the clear container. He is strapped to a table unable to move anything but his eyes.

The sides of his head start to get warm. Malcolm starts to remember being a young girl and going to school. “No! This isn’t right! These aren’t true.”

The judge steps into Malcolm’s line of sight and holds up a hand. The warmth and memories stop. “These memories you are seeing are true. They are everything Amanda has lived through so far. Don’t worry. You won’t lose yourself.”

The judge’s hand goes down and the warmth continues. More and more of Amanda’s life fills Malcolm’s head while slowly replacing Malcolm’s memories. At last Malcolm can only find few memories of his own. Desperate to find anything of his own, he barely notices when they unlock him from the table. All he can find of his own is his name, the events of that night, and his conviction.

“Amanda, it’s time to get dressed.” He follows them to another machine. Moments later she emerges dressed. She is led to a mirror and she is wearing the outfit from that night. Once again the memory of the killing fills her mind.

When her mental eye clears she is face to face with the judge. “You are replacing the life that you took. For the rest of your life you will be Amanda Barnes. We are taking you home now to your parents. I am going to be keeping a close eye on you. If you ever do anything she wouldn’t do or do anything against the law, I will replace the rest of your mind with hers. Do you understand?” Amanda nods meekly.

A taller police officer leads Amanda to her house. After ringing the bell, her parents appear. Her body takes over as she rushes to them. “Mom! Dad! I missed you.”

“What happened, officer?”

“We aren’t sure, and neither is she. We found her wandering around. She remembers everything except how she got there.”

“Well, we are glad to see her. Thank you, officer.”

“My pleasure.”

Amanda shuffles into the house. As she closes the door, the officer takes his cap off and Amanda recognizes him as the judge. He smiles as the door finishes closing.

I must never do anything wrong.