My bond was a hundred thousand. Cash! My parole officer made sure of that. In front of the magistrate he described me as a convicted felon, just recently released from prison on a manslaughter charge, who was already becoming a danger to society by being in possession of a firearm.
“His weapon was found at the scene of a gruesome murder your honor.” My shithead P.O. stuck his chest out and spoke. Coincidently, he failed to mention that the gun had already been tested, and ruled out as part of the crime scene, nor that the gun was not actually found on me.
“That’s not my gun!” I yelled from where I was seated at the back of the Magistrates office.
“Ay! Ay! Calm down!” The magistrate ordered, not even blinking as she issued me the hundred thousand cash bond. Why me God? Do I really deserve this? Is my soul really this cursed? I tried to do the right things. Didn’t I? I was unsure. One lone tear ran down my face. I was mourning the death of someone I’d loved very much. But now, I was all cried out. Now I just saw red! Some sick son of a bitch had robbed me of my wife, my life, and every fuckin dime I had in this world! The night before I’d went to see Lauryn, I’d put the forty thousand dollars I’d gotten from my account at Mechanics and Farmers Bank, via Tamia, in my safe with the rest of my money. The money left in the account, Tamia said that she’d reinvest. I was supposed to have met with Mr. Kilscomb this morning and finalized our deal. I had all the cash together. Now I was broke and in jail. Goddammit! Whomever has done this to me, I will not rest until I hunt them down, and make them pay! My mind is numb. My heart is cold. Love don’t live here anymore.