text: Everything happened in a flash. I was just about to go to sleep when I heard the telephone ring. I used a rotary dial phone, which meant that I won't know who’s calling me. I walked over to the phone and held it up to my ear. "Hello?," I answered. "Hello. This is the Glasscam Police Department. I am the sheriff of this town. You have been convicted of the murder of a person named Paul Smith, who was killed this night. I have sent a few officers to escort you to the department," the sheriff replied. "E-- Excuse me, but I-- I haven't done anything w-- wrong.", I replied, stammering. "I was in my home during the evening". "Yeah right, tell that to the judge kid," he said in a sarcastic tone. A knock on the door was heard a few moments later. As I opened the door, a swarm of officers piled into the room, some with guns facing at me. One of them, who I assumed was the chief of police, got a pair of handcuffs and tied them around my wrists. "You have the right to remain silent," said the chief. I tried telling him that I was innocent, but he said the same words that the sheriff said. "What a coincidence," I thought to myself as I was being taken to the backseat of the police car. I don't remember much after that. While I was in the car, I kept arguing that I was innocent, but the officers ignored me. My height and weight were taken after I got to the station, and I was placed in a small cell. It wasn't cozy at all, just the life essentials were there; a bed, sink, and toilet. I was too weak and tired to stand, so I started to lie on the bed, starting to drift into my sleep. I woke up to the sound of an officer opening my cell. I got up and was put in handcuffs again. He told me I was going to a trial. I had no lawyer, so they just gave me one. From the looks of the lawyer's crinkled and dirty tie, his wild hair, and slightly broken glasses, I could tell I was going to lose in this trial. A few minutes later, a car came and I was taken into the backseat. What felt like hours later, I was in front of the judge, who would decide my fate. Looking at the spectators, I saw a group of people in tears. I assumed they were the victim's parents. They saw me looking in their direction. They scowled at me and turned their heads in disgust. I couldn't take it. For all my life I have never made any mistakes, so it would be unreasonable if I was accused of murder. Thinking about this made my head spin. After my testimony and the lawyer's argument with the victim's family's lawyer, it was time for the jury to decide. A few minutes later, the judge said the final statement of the trial. I only remembered a little bit. "The accused, James Johnson... proven guilty... with no chance of parole... no chance of bail... can only be released until further evidence is discovered...oh this mumbo jumbo is gonna take forever, let's get to the point... James Johnson... will serve a life sentence". Then, the gavel was heard. "Snug fit?," the officers joked when I finished switching my shirt and pants to the ugly, bright orange prison uniforms. Cell number 13 was where I was headed. "Just when I thought I had the chance to be released, the number 13 blocks the tunnel of hope!" I thought to myself in a saddened tone. I wanted to prove everyone wrong, especially my friends, family, and the victim's family. But now, that chance was disappearing every second I was in this building. My family came to visit every so often. Mother and my 23-year-old brother came to visit me every day. Father died when I was 12; a few years after my brother was born. Mother always told me that I was going to be proven innocent. Greg, my brother, told me that he will find evidence to get me out. I chuckled. Everyone knows that Greg hated using his brain for education purposes, but this time, he had some hope in his eyes, which I never noticed before. Being beaten up by other prisoners took some time being used to. The food there was the worst. I couldn't be somewhere without at least one person watching me, but most of the time it was the prisoners, looking for a fight. One day, I couldn't take it anymore. That day when my family visited, I asked them that I didn't like staying here anymore. "Just a little while longer," Mother said with hope. I stared at my brother, wondering what Mother said. "Question: Good news or Bad news," Greg asked. "Ummmm, why?" I replied. "Just answer the question," he said in an impatient tone. "Ok ok, calm down," I said. "Bad news". "I found a lead that might prove you innocent, but I hit a dead-end," he said in a sad voice while lowering his head in shame. "But the good news is I broke through the dead end and found some evidence!" he exclaimed, his head now up again. I was in shock. Without controlling it, I smiled. It was so goofy that Mother started to laugh but in a hushed voice. My brother tried holding his laugh in, but he couldn't stop the burst that almost made him fall off his chair. "Your court trial will begin tomorrow," he said. For the rest of the day, the thought of leaving this place made my heart feel warm. The day passed by without me even knowing it. Before sleeping, the thought struck me. "What if the evidence doesn't work, or-- or the evidence proves me guilty again," I thought before drifting to sleep. The next morning, I got up in a hopeful mood. The trial begins in about an hour. I quickly got ready and was taken into the court. I saw Mother, Greg, and the victim's family there. The victim's family was in a sour mood. I guess they were angry because, in their point of view, the murderer of their son was going to testify again, saying that he was innocent after being proven guilty. When Greg's evidence was in the spotlight I thought that this might actually work. It showed that I was in my house the whole time during the murder. It showed what I did on that device during that time, which was mostly binge-watching a series. After the evidence was shown, the jury made their decision and passed it to the judge. The judge read it out loud. "The accused, James Johnson... had previously been proven guilty... had no chance of parole... no chance of bail... and could only be released until further evidence is discovered... but now the evidence has been found... the jury and I have reviewed it... the conclusion was made... the decision is...," exclaimed the judge in a very dramatic and suspenseful moment, "James Johnson is innocent!". I was happier than ever but didn't make any goofy grins this time. The victim's family nodded in sorrow and regret for making those rude faces at me. I was taken home where familiar noises from the house and street filled me up with adrenaline. I walked out of the house and sat on the porch when I saw my family driving their car into the driveway. They hugged me and sat on the porch. We laughed and talked together as if nothing had happened. While enjoying ourselves, I started to ponder. "What will I do next?".