The Plan

By

 J. Allen Wilson

Paul listened without hearing as he stared at the judicial seal mounted on the wall behind the judge. He listened as the events of the past six months played over in his mind like a bad movie. The evidence against him had been presented, and now his defense must magnify the virtues and the promise of a bright future for a young man who had simply made an error in judgment. Yet Paul knew different, He would pay, but not in terms of what society deemed appropriate, but in the terms of a life sentence of guilt, a shame, which tore daily at the fabric of his soul.

His journey to justice began on New Years Eve, with Paul and some of his pals preparing for the gala event at his families huge estate. Paul had been born with the proverbial silver spoon, he had everything that his heart desired and he had his way with everything in life; that is though with one exception, women. Though he had been graced with enormous wealth and privilege, he had however been shortchanged when it came to looks and social skills. That however was to change tonight, for the estate would be crawling with women and booze, and Paul's friend Jason was going to make sure that Paul would score tonight.

Paul had been skeptical when Jason approached him with "The Plan", but he agreed nevertheless. It was simple and easy, Jason, being the smooth operator that he was, would simply talk his girlfriend Rachel into bringing a friend along to the party for Paul. Once at the party with the wine and music flowing free, Paul would just slip the G Juice {GBH} that Jason had given him into the drink of his date, and the rest as they say is history. Actually, Paul did not think it would work, even if he were able to pull it off, but agree he did, and much to his eternal chagrin. 

With Jason, being true to form, he arrived precisely at 9pm. With him was Rachel his girlfriend of two years, and another girl who must certainly be Paul's date for the party. Her name was Cheryl and perhaps one of the prettiest girls Paul had ever seen. Paul knew at once that this would be his night and {GBH} was to see to it.

Paul had his thoughts of that night interrupted by the pounding of the judge's gavel, and his head swam as the judge spoke "Madam Foreman has the jury reached its verdict"?

"Yes we have your honor" came the cool reply from the slender lady in the foreman's box.

Paul suddenly felt sick as he relived in his mind the image of Cheryl lying on the floor suffocating on her own vomit, gasping and clawing haplessly for air…

"And what do you say"? Said the judge

"Guilty your honor, guilty of murder in the first degree"

Paul dropped his head and wept, but not for himself, but for Cheryl.