FRAGMENTS OF A GOD

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

John’s POV

“What?”

“You can’t.. You can’t do that.” I blurted, confused, hurt and devastated. The last thing I expected was a divorce from someone who I needed the most right now.

“And who says I can’t?” she sneered, her brows furrowed in a confused manner like I had uttered something absurd.

“I am your husband, you should know that I would never hurt another human, you know that.” I muffled, trying to reach for her but she yanked her hands away from me and took a couple steps back with disgust written all over her face.

She laughed hysterically, “I don’t know that.” she spat.

“What?”

“I said, I don't know if you would hurt another human… Listen, enough of all this, just sign the damn papers and let me get out of here, this place gives me the ick and oh, Father would send you a lawyer, consider it a little thanks for you the little sacrifices you made for the company.” she blurted.

Little sacrifice? I was basically the one who built the damn company! I dedicated my life to helping them and she is throwing me away because of an accusation? A crime I didn't commit?

Come to think of it, it’s been less than seven hours since I got arrested. How did she get a divorce paper all setup?

Then it dawned on me: This arrest was just the icing on the cake. She had always wanted to end things. There were signs, but I chose to ignore them because I believed she loved me and cared, but she never did. They never did. They just wanted to use me, and now, they are done with me.

I took the pen and signed the papers she placed before me.

She smiled and walked out without uttering another word to me.

The day of my trial came and I met the lawyer my ex-father-in-law got me. “Johnson Boston?” He called me as we arrived at the courthouse.

“Yes?” I answered and he walked in. It’s been three days since I got detained and this is the first time we were meeting.

“Now, I want you to listen to me. The case against you is bad so do not say a word and allow me to do all the talking, do you understand?” He muttered nonchalantly. My heart skipped a beat, and worry consumed me that this so-called lawyer might not do justice to my case but then my father was a reputable man, he wouldn't give me a croak lawyer.

“But I didn't do… how come there are many evidence against me? Shouldn't the cop be looking for who the actual murderer is?” I let out.

He halted and turned to me then he laughed, “Do you not understand when a case is bad? It means all evidence points to you as the killer, from the fingerprint on the victim's body to the DNA that was found at the scene, to the hair on your head, to your shoe tracks, everything points to you.” he paused as he glared at me, “listen, just let me do the talking, just sit there. Do you understand me?”

What the fuck? How is that even possible?? I have never entered Claire's living room, we always stood outside to talk, how did my hair get to the scene?

Who the fuck is going through so much length to frame me and why? Why?

Once again, my wife and her family came to mind. I was investigating the cause of Claire’s children's illness which was somewhat linked to the food my wife produced but… That is not enough reason to kill Claire right? It’s not enough reason to frame me, right?

“Court Arise!”

“We are here, the people versus Johnson Boston for the murder of Claire and her children in their home in cold blood. Defendant, how do you plead?”

I tried to rise but my lawyer rose before me, he placed his hands on my shoulder.

“We plead guilty.” My lawyer blurted and horror splashed over my face.

My heart raced and I broke into hot sweat even though the courtroom was fully air-conditioned. My hands began to tremble.

What is he saying? Why is he pleading guilty? I’m innocent… I didn't kill anyone.

“My client Johnson Boston admitted to killing Claire and her children in their home on Friday, March 8, 2022…

“No, I didn't!”

“He beat up the mother Claire with his fist and kicked her ribs with his legs…

“What the fuck are you saying! I never said that! I never did that! Why are you doing this.”

“Then he strangled her and hung her in the living room!”

“No! NO! I didn't.”

“Order in the courtroom. Mr Johnson, take your seat at once!” the judge ordered anger spreading on his face as he glared at me.

I didn't care, I jerked my lawyer, “I didn't do it. I told you that I didn't do it… why are you lying!”

“Your honor, as you can see my client has anger management issues.” he blurted, pointing his finger to my hands that were on the collar of his shirt.

I let go immediately but it was too late. No, I never had time… this case was already closed the moment I got arrested.

I rushed towards the judge on his stand even though there was still a podium between us.

“Your Honor, I swear! I didn't do it. I swear on Mother Justice, I was only helping them, please, please you have to believe me… I didn't kill them, please… please I am being framed… please.” I begged, almost going on my knees but the officers grabbed me and hit me with the baton in their hands to restrain me.

I struggled to break free but they held me down.

“My client believes he was helping the victim and her children by ending their lives. He is mentally unstable and needs to be put away.” My lawyer blurted.

I tilted my head towards him and our eyes locked, his lips slowly curled up in a sweet smile.

My brows arched in confusion. My throat bobbed as horror flushed my face. The guards lifted me off the floor and tried to return me to the stand after cuffing me and I saw my wife amidst the audience. And that was when I knew it.

She was smiling.

This was all her plan.

They had killed Claire and her children because they were right! They were fucking right. The food Nancy produced caused her children to fall ill and I was getting close to uncovering the truth so they decided to silence us.

A reporter rushed towards me amongst the crowd with determination on his face. “Mr Boston, why do you think you were framed?” he blurted, following me as the guard led me back to my seat.

I ignored it because I assumed he was another of Nancy's schemes but then he slid his card secretly into my pocket and asked another question.

“Why were the kids sick? Why were they killed? Why were you framed?”

He wasn't asking to frame me, he was asking for the truth. The truth that everyone ignored.

Before I could say a word, another officer came and dragged him away.

“This is my verdict.” the judge began. “The court found Johnson Boston guilty of manslaughter and is hereby sentenced to life imprisonment with hard labor. COURT ADJOURNED!”