Guilt

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Hey guys! Thanks for giving one of my other stories a shot! It means a lot! So, like usual my story is taken place in the 90's and also the early 2000's, so I will be jumping back between different time periods a bit. Just to understand what the main characters have been through throughout the years, I jumped between flashbacks and then the present time. You will be able to tell the difference though, because at the top of each chapter I will present which year it is, if it set in the past or the present. (In this story, the present day is in 2006). Just wanted to let you guys know before getting started.

Also, this is one of my first stories so it needs a lot of editing, I'm aware of that. But I am pretty busy at the moment and I can't find the time to edit, but I will get around to it eventually.

That's pretty much it, so I hope you guys enjoy this story and please feel free to comment and vote on any parts you like, or if you have certain advice about a chapter. Thanks again! Enjoy!

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September 1997

Kevin Turner sat in his glazed wooden seat in the courthouse, his right leg fidgeting and twitching up and down, as he bounced it nervously. His teeth could almost be heard chattering away from across the room, as the court room was jam packed, with friends and family involved with this whole mess, along with outsiders, reporters, and the press with camera's sneaking their way in. The jury box, about twenty feet away from him to his right, along with the state attorney, and the judge that sat in front of them all. As if he was the god almighty, and everyone in that room was watching him. However, the people in the court room were not there for the judge, as they were only there to hear the outcome of this trial, and to hear Kevin Turner's fate.

The whole room was faintly quieted, with only few whispers creating the mood and sound in the wide room, as the half where Mr. Turner was sitting was rather empty with the court opponents, and the other half of the room behind Kevin was full. Full of people taking up all the chairs behind the tiny gate separating them, with no empty seats left. Others were practically sitting in each other's laps with how full the back half of the room was, as everyone in their town wanted this case to be put to bed, and to finally have an end. For it to be over, for the community to be able to grieve, to move on from this tragedy that had haunted their town for the past year. The mystery surrounding one little boy in particular, among possible others as well. Kevin could almost feel the victims family's stares biting into his skin, on the back of his head mostly, as he tried not to look over once. For if he did he knew he would only get narrowing, judgmental and sickening stares and glares from everyone witnessing the trial that was soon going to come to an end.

The waiting was killing him, as his nerves, anxiety and anxiousness was levelling higher and higher as each minute ticked by. Everyone in that room was called back in awhile ago, for they thought the jury had made their decision. However it seemed they were still making last minute deliberations, and for Kevin, he saw that as a good sign, but also a bad. He couldn't take it any longer, as he sweated buckets drenching from mostly his forehead, as he could bet his shirt had already developed sweat stains. He just wanted this waiting to be over, however at the same time didn't. For when it was over, he would know what the jury decided, and he would be either in prison, or a free man. But he wouldn't be all that free he would bet, as he knew he would lose his job, and most likely receive a numerous amount of restraining orders. Definitely one from the Lucas family. People around town would glare at him, thinking he really did do what he was accused of, and would cross the street once they caught a glimpse of him. Pull their children close to them as he passed, and tell them to stay clear of that man. That awful man. His house could be vandalized, most likely more than once, and rioting citizens would want their revenge. Revenge for doing such terrible things to a little boy, maybe more. Either way this whole trial went, it would not go in favour of him he knew for a fact. His life would no longer be the same, as he knew that all too well. His life had been ruined, and he knew just exactly by whom. It was that boy. That little innocent, naive, stupid little eight year old boy. He had ruined his whole life, the minute he saw him. The minute they started talking. The minute, that little boy needed help with his bike:

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