The man walked forward, head down, putting a sheaf of papers on the plain wooden podium. In front of him was a sea of orange jumpers, all eyes staring at him. Some looked angry, others mournful, and still some apprehensive or merely curious. The prisoners watched as he arranged the papers and raised his head. Nervous whispers broke out, and many simply gasped at the sight of the man’s face. He was horribly scarred, with one side of his mouth being pulled down into a perpetual scowl, and his skin was a patchwork of pieces, looking like he had been attacked by some very large animal. His eyes, tortured and sad, stared out of his ruined face. He began to speak in a rasp, a sound like a file over metal.
“My name is Mr. Hillsbrough. I am a life sentenced inmate at Macon Penitentiary in Georgia. My life has been nothing but regrets. Some of you have a chance to turn your lives around. I’m going to read you a story, and maybe you will see clearer.”
The inmates sneered. Another motivational speech. They settled in, prepared to listen mindlessly for however long this took. Those who actually wanted to listen sat back and pretended not to hear with open ears.
Mr. Hillsbrough looked down, and cleared his gravelly throat and raised the back of one hand, which to the inmates’ horror, was also terribly marred, and brushed a lock of gray hair out of the way of his eyes.
“Tyler was a young man, twenty-two years old when he first met Joanie. They married two years later and she was his everything. Tyler, however, was not who he revealed to be to his precious wife. He kissed her goodbye every morning to go to work, leaving for his job. He told her he was a secretary for a local tutoring business. Tyler was, in reality, a skilled gunman. He was a hired thug; criminals hired him to pick off enemies and to do small robberies. He was well-paid, and he and Joanie had been happily married for two years, when she told him she was expecting their first child. Tyler was ecstatic. He met this with one small fluke. He had never told Jo about his real occupation. He decided that one more job and he was done. The man he had talked to that morning had promised him $20,000 if he pulled of his next job, stealing three hundred grand’s worth of jewels from Emile Capon, a known local mob member. Tyler spent the morning, after kissing a glowing Jo goodbye; in the junkyard, shooting cans off varying targets, practicing and honing his talent before the showdown that night.
At eleven that night he crept into Capon’s mansion, hardly making a noise as he stealthily crawled through the house and into the mobster’s study. He put his ear to the safe in the corner, and within 15 minutes had the door open. He was grinning and congratulating himself on his best job ever, filling his sack with jewels when the light clicked on. Two guards stood there, guns drawn and aimed at Tyler’s chest. Tyler smiled at them, then flung himself out the window closest him. He landed noisily in the bushes out side, and sprinted for the street. He heard cars revving their engines behind him, and raised voices in the house.
He turned the jewels over to a very happy thief, and collected his check. His money was paid in installments so Joanie never had to ask why huge sums were coming in. He stopped in a grocery to change his outfit, putting his gun in his back holster, behind his belt, so he could take it and hide it before he undressed and went to bed with Jo. He switched into a tie and shirt, and walked the rest of the way home. He clicked on the light in his kitchen, and was calmly eating the lasagna Jo had left out for him when he heard a thump down the hall. He walked into the master bedroom. Standing in front of him was Joanie in her nightgown with a look of utter terror on her face. Behind her was Emile Capon himself, holding Joanie in a headlock and putting a gun to her temple. Tyler drew his gun with lightning speed, pointing it past Joanie and to Capon. Capon smiled.
‘My guard was fortunate enough to recognize your smiling face this evening, ah, Tyler – is it?’
Tyler snarled and clicked the gun chambers to check and see if it was fully loaded.
‘Let her go,’ he roared, ‘she’s done nothing to you.’
‘But you have, young man, and that’s where the issue arises.’
Tyler heard sirens.
‘You called the police, Capon?!? There’s enough evidence to convict you and me together!’ he yelled, ‘What the hell is going on?’
Joanie whimpered, frightened tears squeezing out of her eyes as Capon pushed the barrel of his gun into her head, hard.
‘No, I did not call them, but by the time they get here, I will be gone, and you and little Joanie will be dead.’
Tyler bellowed like an angry bull and fired past Joanie’s head. With a deafening BOOM the gun exploded. Shards of metal flew everywhere, and Tyler felt them dig into his face and flung up his hands. He saw Joanie fall. Capon collapsed right behind her.
Tyler felt hot blood running down his face, and the backs of his hands and his chest were also rapidly turning scarlet. He knelt down next to Joanie. Her chest bellowed in and out, her hands shaking as they were clutched over her chest. A shard of metal had buried itself in her jugular, and she was rapidly losing blood. Capon, on the other hand, was dead. There was no movement from his chest and his lifeless eyes stared with alarm at the foot of the bed he was facing.
Tyler knelt and took off his jacket. Tears pricked at the backs of his eyes as he gazed at his wife. Her eyes were glazed over as her heart pumped to keep her alive, but killed her as she sent life blood out the hole in her throat. Tyler gently pressed a rag to her throat, trying in a hopeless attempt to save her life. Blood and tears mingled as he knelt over her. Jo tried to speak, making a halting attempt as she tried to talk through blood.
‘Ty.ler. I. don’t…know what…you never told…me. But…I…love you. I wanted…to…name. him…Michael.’
‘I love you too love.’ Tyler sobbed, bending over her. He would’ve willingly traded his life for hers right then. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he cried, clutching her hand to his chest, not knowing how to explain his hidden life to the woman he loved before she died. ‘I love you, I love you,’ he repeated over and over, rocking back and forth over her.
And that’s how the police found them, a gun, one dead man, one dead woman, drenched in blood, and one man, weak from loss of blood, murmuring ceaselessly, ‘I love you, I love you,’ lying at her side and holding her hand to his lips.
He received a life sentence for being convicted of countless felonies from all of his robberies, because of the murders of several unimportant thugs, the murder of Emile Capon, and the accidental killing of Joanie Hillsbrough and her unborn child.”
Dead silence greeted the end of the man’s story. The inmates all listened raptly to his heartbreaking tale, and many were openly sobbing or not bothering to conceal the tears running down their faces. The man changed many hearts that day, and conveyed to all the consequences of gun crime. Tears running down his own twisted face, he choked out,
“Thank you for listening. I…am Tyler Hillsbrough, and this…was my story.”
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Prison
The man walked forward, head down, putting a sheaf of papers on the plain wooden podium. In front of him was a sea of orange jumpers, all eyes were staring at him, some angry, others mournful, and still some apprehensive or merely curious. The prisoners looked as he arranged the papers, and raised his head. Nervous whispers broke out, and many simply gasped at the man’s face. He was horribly scarred, with one side of his mouth being pulled down into a perpetual scowl, and his skin was a patchwork of pieces, looking like he had been attacked by some very large animal. His eyes, tortured and sad, stared out of his ruined face. He began to speak in a rasp, a sound like a file over metal.
“My name is Mr. Hillsbrough. I am a life sentenced inmate at Macon Penitentiary in Georgia. My life has been nothing but regrets. Some of you have a chance to turn your lives around. I’m going to read you a story, and maybe you will see clearer.”
The inmates sneered. Another motivational speech. They settled in, prepared to listen mindlessly for however long this took. Those who actually wanted to listen sat back and pretended not to with open ears.
Mr. Hillsbrough looked down, and cleared his gravelly throat and raised the back of one hand, which to the inmates’ horror, was also terribly marred, and brushed a lock of gray hair out of the way of his eyes.
“Tyler was a young man, twenty-two years old when he first met Joanie. They married two years later and she was his everything. Tyler was however, not who he revealed to his precious wife. He kissed her goodbye every morning to go to work, leaving for his job. He told her he was a secretary for a local tutoring business. Tyler was, in reality, a skilled gunman. He was a hired thug; criminals hired him to pick off enemies and to do small robberies. He was well-paid, and he and Joanie had been happily married for two years, when she told him she was expecting their first child. Tyler was ecstatic. He met this with one small fluke. He had never told Jo. He decided that one more job and he was done. The man he had talked to that morning had promised him $20,000 if he pulled of his next job, stealing three hundred grand’s worth of jewels from Emile Capon, a known local mob member. Tyler spent the morning after kissing a glowing Jo goodbye in the junkyard, shooting cans off varying targets, practicing and honing his talent before the showdown that night.
At eleven that night he crept into Capon’s mansion, hardly making a noise as he stealthily crawled through the house and into the mobster’s study. He put his ear to the safe in the corner, and within 15 minutes had the door open. He was grinning and congratulating himself on his best job ever, filling his sack with jewels when the light clicked on. Two guards stood there, guns drawn and aimed at Tyler’s chest. Tyler smiled at them, then flung himself out the window closest him. He landed noisily in the bushes out side, and sprinted for the street. He heard cars revving their engines behind him, and raised voices in the house.
He turned the jewels over to a very happy thief, and collected his check. His money was paid in installments so Joanie never had to ask why huge sums were coming in. He stopped in a grocery to change his outfit, putting his gun in his back holster, behind his belt, so he could take it and hide it before he undressed and went to bed with Jo. He switched into a tie and shirt, and walked the rest of the way home. He clicked on the light in his kitchen, and was calmly eating the lasagna Jo had left out for him when he heard a thump down the hall. He walked into the master bedroom. Standing in front of him was Joanie in her nightgown with a look of utter terror on her face. Behind her was Emile Capon himself, holding Joanie in a headlock and putting a gun to her temple. Tyler drew his gun with lightning speed, pointing it past Joanie and to Capon. Capon smiled.
‘My guard was fortunate enough to recognize your smiling face this evening, ah, Tyler – is it?’
Tyler snarled and clicked the gun chambers to check and see if it was fully loaded.
‘Let her go,’ he roared, ‘she’s done nothing to you.’
‘But you have, young man, and that’s where the issue arises.’
Tyler heard sirens.
‘You called the police, Capon?!? There’s enough evidence to convict you and me together!’ he yelled, ‘What the hell is going on?’
Joanie whimpered, frightened tears squeezing out of her eyes as Capon pushed the barrel of his gun into her head, hard.
‘No, I did not call them, but by the time they get here, I will be gone, and you and little Joanie will be dead.’
Tyler bellowed like an angry bull and fired past Joanie’s head. With a deafening BOOM the gun exploded. Shards of metal flew everywhere, and Tyler felt them dig into his face and flung up his hands. He saw Joanie fall. Capon collapsed right behind her.
Tyler felt hot blood running down his face, and the backs of his hands and his chest were also rapidly turning scarlet. He knelt down next to Joanie. Her chest bellowed in and out, her hands shaking as they were clutched over her chest. A shard of metal had buried itself in her jugular, and she was rapidly losing blood. Capon, on the other hand, was dead. There was no movement from his chest and his lifeless eyes stared with alarm at the foot of the bed he was facing.
Tyler knelt and took off his jacket. Tears pricked at the backs of his eyes as he gazed at his wife. Her eyes were glazed over as her heart pumped to keep her alive, but killed her as she sent life blood out the hole in her throat. Tyler gently pressed a rag to her throat, trying in a hopeless attempt to save her life. Blood and tears mingled as he knelt over her. Jo tried to speak, making a halting attempt as she tried to talk through blood.
‘Ty.ler. I. don’t…know what…you never told…me. But…I…love you. I wanted…to…name. him…Michael.’
‘I love you too love.’ Tyler sobbed, bending over her. He would’ve willingly traded his life for hers right then. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he cried, clutching her hand to his chest, not knowing how to explain his hidden life to the woman he loved before she died. ‘I love you, I love you,’ he repeated over and over, rocking back and forth over her.
And that’s how the police found them, a gun, one dead man, one dead woman, drenched in blood, and one man, weak from loss of blood, murmuring ceaselessly, ‘I love you, I love you,’ lying at her side and holding her hand to his lips.
He received a life sentence for being convicted of countless felonies from all of his robberies, because of the murders of several unimportant thugs, the murder of Emile Capon, and the accidental killing of Joanie Hillsbrough and her unborn child.”
Dead silence greeted the end of the man’s story. The inmates all listened raptly to his heartbreaking tale, and many were openly sobbing or not bothering to conceal the tears running down their faces. The man changed many hearts that day, and conveyed to all the consequences of gun crime. Tears running down his own twisted face, he choked out,
“Thank you for listening. I…am Tyler Hillsbrough, and this…was my story.”
“My name is Mr. Hillsbrough. I am a life sentenced inmate at Macon Penitentiary in Georgia. My life has been nothing but regrets. Some of you have a chance to turn your lives around. I’m going to read you a story, and maybe you will see clearer.”
The inmates sneered. Another motivational speech. They settled in, prepared to listen mindlessly for however long this took. Those who actually wanted to listen sat back and pretended not to with open ears.
Mr. Hillsbrough looked down, and cleared his gravelly throat and raised the back of one hand, which to the inmates’ horror, was also terribly marred, and brushed a lock of gray hair out of the way of his eyes.
“Tyler was a young man, twenty-two years old when he first met Joanie. They married two years later and she was his everything. Tyler was however, not who he revealed to his precious wife. He kissed her goodbye every morning to go to work, leaving for his job. He told her he was a secretary for a local tutoring business. Tyler was, in reality, a skilled gunman. He was a hired thug; criminals hired him to pick off enemies and to do small robberies. He was well-paid, and he and Joanie had been happily married for two years, when she told him she was expecting their first child. Tyler was ecstatic. He met this with one small fluke. He had never told Jo. He decided that one more job and he was done. The man he had talked to that morning had promised him $20,000 if he pulled of his next job, stealing three hundred grand’s worth of jewels from Emile Capon, a known local mob member. Tyler spent the morning after kissing a glowing Jo goodbye in the junkyard, shooting cans off varying targets, practicing and honing his talent before the showdown that night.
At eleven that night he crept into Capon’s mansion, hardly making a noise as he stealthily crawled through the house and into the mobster’s study. He put his ear to the safe in the corner, and within 15 minutes had the door open. He was grinning and congratulating himself on his best job ever, filling his sack with jewels when the light clicked on. Two guards stood there, guns drawn and aimed at Tyler’s chest. Tyler smiled at them, then flung himself out the window closest him. He landed noisily in the bushes out side, and sprinted for the street. He heard cars revving their engines behind him, and raised voices in the house.
He turned the jewels over to a very happy thief, and collected his check. His money was paid in installments so Joanie never had to ask why huge sums were coming in. He stopped in a grocery to change his outfit, putting his gun in his back holster, behind his belt, so he could take it and hide it before he undressed and went to bed with Jo. He switched into a tie and shirt, and walked the rest of the way home. He clicked on the light in his kitchen, and was calmly eating the lasagna Jo had left out for him when he heard a thump down the hall. He walked into the master bedroom. Standing in front of him was Joanie in her nightgown with a look of utter terror on her face. Behind her was Emile Capon himself, holding Joanie in a headlock and putting a gun to her temple. Tyler drew his gun with lightning speed, pointing it past Joanie and to Capon. Capon smiled.
‘My guard was fortunate enough to recognize your smiling face this evening, ah, Tyler – is it?’
Tyler snarled and clicked the gun chambers to check and see if it was fully loaded.
‘Let her go,’ he roared, ‘she’s done nothing to you.’
‘But you have, young man, and that’s where the issue arises.’
Tyler heard sirens.
‘You called the police, Capon?!? There’s enough evidence to convict you and me together!’ he yelled, ‘What the hell is going on?’
Joanie whimpered, frightened tears squeezing out of her eyes as Capon pushed the barrel of his gun into her head, hard.
‘No, I did not call them, but by the time they get here, I will be gone, and you and little Joanie will be dead.’
Tyler bellowed like an angry bull and fired past Joanie’s head. With a deafening BOOM the gun exploded. Shards of metal flew everywhere, and Tyler felt them dig into his face and flung up his hands. He saw Joanie fall. Capon collapsed right behind her.
Tyler felt hot blood running down his face, and the backs of his hands and his chest were also rapidly turning scarlet. He knelt down next to Joanie. Her chest bellowed in and out, her hands shaking as they were clutched over her chest. A shard of metal had buried itself in her jugular, and she was rapidly losing blood. Capon, on the other hand, was dead. There was no movement from his chest and his lifeless eyes stared with alarm at the foot of the bed he was facing.
Tyler knelt and took off his jacket. Tears pricked at the backs of his eyes as he gazed at his wife. Her eyes were glazed over as her heart pumped to keep her alive, but killed her as she sent life blood out the hole in her throat. Tyler gently pressed a rag to her throat, trying in a hopeless attempt to save her life. Blood and tears mingled as he knelt over her. Jo tried to speak, making a halting attempt as she tried to talk through blood.
‘Ty.ler. I. don’t…know what…you never told…me. But…I…love you. I wanted…to…name. him…Michael.’
‘I love you too love.’ Tyler sobbed, bending over her. He would’ve willingly traded his life for hers right then. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he cried, clutching her hand to his chest, not knowing how to explain his hidden life to the woman he loved before she died. ‘I love you, I love you,’ he repeated over and over, rocking back and forth over her.
And that’s how the police found them, a gun, one dead man, one dead woman, drenched in blood, and one man, weak from loss of blood, murmuring ceaselessly, ‘I love you, I love you,’ lying at her side and holding her hand to his lips.
He received a life sentence for being convicted of countless felonies from all of his robberies, because of the murders of several unimportant thugs, the murder of Emile Capon, and the accidental killing of Joanie Hillsbrough and her unborn child.”
Dead silence greeted the end of the man’s story. The inmates all listened raptly to his heartbreaking tale, and many were openly sobbing or not bothering to conceal the tears running down their faces. The man changed many hearts that day, and conveyed to all the consequences of gun crime. Tears running down his own twisted face, he choked out,
“Thank you for listening. I…am Tyler Hillsbrough, and this…was my story.”
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