Monster Minds [completed]

Chapter 20

"A clown can get away with murder."

- John Wayne Gacy, the Killer Clown (so named for his job of dressing as a clown at children's parties), murdered at least 33 people. He was executed in 1994.

(This is a part of a double update. Make sure you read the previous chapter first)

Chapter 20 

Did George kill Harley James?

None of us; not the guards, not the police, not my father, not George, nor I, knew the answer to that question.

For the first time in a long time, I didn't have a clue of what to do. Every time I reached a bump in the road I would always have a solution, or an answer to the question. But, this time, I couldn't find an answer.

How was I supposed to prove his innocence when the footage of that day was lost, when my father was hell bent on his guilt, when George didn't have an alibi and didn't even remember what he was doing that morning? 

All my efforts of those past weeks felt like they were all for nothing, as it was impossible for me to prove his innocence. And because he was already guilty of one crime, the court would be inclined towards proving further guilt over innocence.

I was pulled from the consumption of my thoughts by another cry from George's throat. I blinked hard, trying to clear the sudden fog that clouded my vision, not realising it was tears that fell from my eyes. I swiped angrily at the wetness on my cheeks, realising that George would be feeling more confusion and doubt than I would ever comprehend.

I reached out to grab his shoulders, to stop him from rocking backwards and forwards, but it was no use. As soon as my fingers grazed the sleeve of his shirt, he jerked away as if I was diseased, eyes ablaze with a mix of emotions I would never understand.

"George—"

"Don't touch me, Emily! I'm a monster!" He cried, eyebrows furrowed with sorrow.

His words tore open a hole in my heart and latched itself inside me like a leech. Old memories leaked into new ones, combining all images of what I had seen and what I had done until it formed the perfect image of a monster. It looked nothing like George.

"I've seen monsters, George. You are not a monster. You never have been and you never will be." I whispered, arm patiently outstretched, awaiting George's move. He didn't move, but that meant he had stopped rocking, so I pushed forwards with my words. "I don't care about what you've done in your past, George." My voice cracked as another tear escaped from the clutches of my eyelashes. "You know I will never judge you for your past. You taught me to judge people by their present, because that's what matters. And right now, in the present, you are kind, compassionate, and loving in every way."

The tears fell freely, from my eyes and from his, creating a puddle of darkness on the cement floor. The tears on his face mixed with the dried blood on his lips and cheeks, slowly washing it away. His arms slowly unwrapped from his knees as his chin tilted upward, gaze directed at me.

"And because of those reasons, I know you didn't do it. You couldn't have. You couldn't have killed Even Parker because you were locked in here the whole time he was missing. You couldn't have killed Harley James because you were with me on the day he was found dead. You didn't do it, George. You are not guilty! Not of this."

My head shook as I spoke and my eyes fluttered shut to keep the tears from falling too quickly. My hand, outstretched between the bars, twitched as it was touched by a gentle counterpart. As it was engulfed in the warmth of another, a sob escaped from the depths of my throat.