Christopher Norman – EP2 by misternorman
(CAN YOU GUESS THE TITLE?)
Art: Bvll Xick (Bvllmetalart).
Welcome, I had a long preface I just deleted that backed up my personal conviction pertaining to this subject matter. I am learning and applying the concept of keeping my opinions out of the material and focus on telling the story. So, this is me doing just this. To summarize the aforementioned:
In the medical industry there is no money in cures.
Chapter: One.
It is said that we as humans are capable of any and everything. Anyone who has ever studied history would attest to such a philosophy. One would think that by now there is a universal code that we as humans have and understand. It wasn’t until late in my life that I was shown differently. Call it nature versus nurture. Call it the demoralization of society, or simply victimization of it via greed. Many different adjectives come to mind when I think of Samuel Jefferies, a name unfamiliar to most. This man is a callous, incompetent, sham of a human being. Truly, he has taken the sentiment of the American dream the farthest reaches a human being can conceive. What if the American dream was just a dream?
The day is October 18, 2008. The trial has been underway for months now. Samuel is a mid-thirty-something Caucasian male, possibly responsible for many malicious and cognate crimes that had recently plagued the already battered medical community. The defense attorney, Scotty Bronstein, has called his client Samuel Jefferies to the stand. I am positioned a few rows back and intermingled with the other curious spectators. I see Samuel stand and turn toward his wife and daughters as he readjusts his blazer. As the defendant takes the stand, the tension in the room grows thick. The gallery is silent, well-aware of our witnessing of history in the making. The panels of jurors are mixed in race and appearances, and all share the same silent reaction. I pray that they will not let this monster slide.
Upon first glance Samuel would seem to be a pillar of society. He is an attractive, well-groomed, charming and successful individual; an air of intelligence permeates. Jefferies seems to share the appearance of an everyday hard working laborer, much like you or I; benevolent, driven by morals, religion, and a sense of stability. I thought to myself, ‘maybe I am too close to the case, or have become biased and a little too eager to solve the biggest case of my career.’ I had been spending countless sleepless nights in thought, taking turns questioning and rationalizing my emotions.
As Jefferies takes the oath, his attorney Scotty Bronstein paces the floor. I know that the pacing is just a charade to build tension before he delivers some verbal rescue attempts. Scotty Bronstein is the leading criminal defense attorney in Los Angeles. He is the go-to guy for people in trouble that have deep pockets. Neither you nor I would ever be able to afford such a highly effective mouthpiece. His résumé details a lengthy list of celebrity clients, politicians and other hot air balloons. He is a sure-fire stay-out-of-jail-free card for the wealthy. Needless to say, I am worried. As Scotty clears his throat, he lifts a glass from the table behind him and takes a sip. He approaches the jury.
“Samuel, the accusations against you are pretty horrific, would you agree?” All eyes are on Samuel as he moves forward in his seat towards the microphone, clears his throat and replies,
“Yes they are.” He follows this with an endearing grin as he leans back, presenting no evidence that he is in discomfort.
“So, why do you think you are really here?” Scotty asks, now standing in front of the panel of jurors. I hear my heartbeat echoing in my ears as my hands begin to clam up. With a smile on his face, Samuel moves forward in his chair toward the microphone,
“I guess I’m here to prove my innocence? You could say I’m being ostracized because of my success. Some would say I’m here for my ill nature albeit a derogatory, categorized perception. I’m sorry.” Noticing his eyes swell from emotion, he pauses for a moment and continues,
“You will have to excuse me. I’m a little upset that I’m here when I should be at home with my wife and family.” As a tear falls from the corner of his eye, he looks to his family amongst the gallery. Feeling that his deliverance had a momentous effect, he pans the room. Even I felt the vibe of pity. Sorrow seemed apparent for the illusion of this God-fearing man. Clenching a fist while feeling my blood run cold, I begin to loosen my tie. I can’t stand sitting still, sitting quietly knowing what this man has done.
Three years earlier:
