You are now arrested for murder. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say will be used against you in court. You have the right to hire a lawyer. If you can not afford one, one will be appointed to you in court.
It was I who killed the old man! I used my dissimulation and profoundness to do so!
Just then, then in that moment, I started to repent everything. The audacity that I had to kill such a superb gentleman. Who had payed me fairly and only shown me kindness. The guilt set inside of me started to derision me. So much in fact I felt I must scream a the top of my lungs to what felt like a constant pain in the deep crevices of my hideous, black heart.
Wait! I have conceived a punishment sufficient enough for me! Instead of putting me in jail, I would like to request a hanging, in which my death will take place.
Enough! I sentence you to 20 years in jail.
Good bye world! I will miss you so! If the heaven above exists then I hope it will make me a better person. I only hope that the guilt eating inside me does not conjure itself there. That the only thing I feel is beatitude and peace. *dies*
Time of death, eight fifteen in the morning!
At some point, all stories must come to an end. Mine ended not because I ran out of pages, but because I simply chose to stop writing.