Corneliuville

Welcome to Corneliuville

Shade rides in the back of the transportation van with shackles on his feet and wrapped in a straight jacket. He had never done anything illegal, never even had a speeding ticket. As he rides, remembers how it was that he ended up in the back of this van. An innocent young man, on his way to serve his sentence.

    "911, what is the nature of your emergency?" the operator asks. The call he placed all those weeks ago still echoes through his head.

    "I need medical help," he hears himself say in his memories, "not for me, for a friend. I don't think he's breathing."

    "Okay, sir, I have dispatched medical personnel and they are on the way," he replays the operator's voice inside of his head, "sir, what is your name?"

    "Shade," he hears himself reply.

    A new memory comes into his thoughts;

    "You're under arrest for the murder of . . ." the  memory of himself being arrested fades off as another rushes in, replacing it.

    "I didn't do this, I'm innocent," he remembers pleading, "I'm not a killer."

    "You were the last one to see him alive," a lawyer tells, "and you fought him."

    "I didn't do it," he remembers proclaiming his innocence.

    A new memory now takes over;

    "I think your best bet is to take the plea bargain," the lawyer tells him.

    "No," Shade refuses, "I'm not a murderer and I am not coping to some stupid plea that basically makes me admit that I killed him."

    The memory of his trial has now taken over  his mind;

    "How do you plead?" the judge asks him.

    "Not guilty," Shade replies.

More memories of the trial as Shade is cross examined by the prosecuting district attorney;

"You immensely disliked him so that much that when he came after you, you knew this was your chance to end him once and for all. Admit it! You disliked him because he knew exactly how to get under your skin and you were glad he attacked you. You waited for this moment for quite some time now. Admit it, you wanted him to go away and never come back, so you made sure of that."

"I hated him," Shade admits on the stand, "but I didn't kill him."

A new memory flashes into his mind;

"We the jury, find the defendant, Samuel H. Ayers Dumas Edwards guilty on the account of . . ." the memory the judge reading the verdict fades away, leading to earlier this morning.

"I find, due to the nature of your crime and the murder you committed," the judge speaks as he sentences Shade, "I am not going to sentence you to life in prison, nor will I give you a death sentence. Mr. Edwards, Shade as I hear you like to be addressed. Your record is spotless and though I cannot grant you forgiveness for your crime, I do believe you are not a lost cause. This why I am sentencing you to the rehabilitation community, Corneliuville under the care of the head director, William Danson, as long as he sees fit." Shade comes out of his memories just as the van comes to a stop. It is only feet away from a black gate on the road. A camera scans the van as it waits and then shortly after, the gates open, allowing the van to continue the drive. Another couple of miles and the van once again comes to a stop because of another black gate. This gate is topped with barbed wire. The van is once again scanned and the gates open, allowing the van to enter, only to be stopped by an approaching black, limousine.