As I walked along the road that night, a particularly dark night as I remember, I came across no one, "Good", I thought to myself, as I changed the position of my backpack, "No one to interupt this important task". I walked for close to an hour when I got to the woodland. Another half mile before I got to the pit I had dug hours before. As I neared on to the dark, bleak hole in the ground I took off my bagpack, unzipped it and as I was dumping his body in the pit of black death, I mused at the events that led to this scene...
It all started when I was walking down Arcade Street. I was walking on the street quite ordinarily, until he sneaked up to me. Old Joe was a crazy old tramp who stalked anyone who walked on Arcade Street alone. Anyway, I knew he was stalking me because I could smell the vile stench of uncleaned clothes, out of date whiskey and donna kebabs. That was the smell of doom in my village because it meant that he was on to you. A gruby hand pulled on my sholder, making me spin, so I was face to face with him. "You're gonna murder someone today", he slurred. I could smell the booze on his breath. He had just finished his drink. I told him to get off me and started running. He ran after me, repeating what he had said, over and over again. I ran into the busy high street, that's where he lost me. I lent against a wall, panting. All I could hear was his shouting in the crowd, "He's a killer! He's a killer!", after five minuites of hiding I darted out of the alley, in the direction of the bank, inwhich I worked. All day long I filed and printed, trying to keep the morning's events at the back of my head and it worked, until one O'clock in the afternoon. That's when he came in shouting,"Murderer! Muderer! Killer!", at the cashier at the front desk. He saw immediatly after and ran out of the door. I went back into my office and tried to calm down and nearly did when I saw his face pressed on my window, shouting "Murderer! Murderer! Killer!", when I saw him there, I ran out of my office and accidently barged into the Boss, Mr. Peterson, spilling coffee down the front of his new suit. He told me that I was to see him in his office, immediatly.
After an hour of telling me of how incompitant I was, he finally told me to clear out my office and get out of the building. He had even given me a oversized backpack to put my pocessions in. After I cleared out my office and was walking down the high street, Old Joe came out of nowhere, pointed at me and yelled as loud as his gruff voice would let him, "Murderer!" I just kept on walking, even as he followed me home. When I went through the front gate, he walked away. The only thing going through my head was his words, Mr. Peterson's words and the word: Vengence. So I got a shovel and went into the forest and dug the pit. I then went back home and found my pistol and oversized backpack and set off to try and find the old tramp. I made sure that no one was in any of the derelict houses of Arcade Street and walked up it ten times before I found him. He pointed at me and shouted "Murd-", and that's when I fired the pistol. One shot in the head and one in the chest. I lifted his heavy frame into the bag and hand carried it into the wood and the pit...
So, your honour, am I guilty, or not guilty of the killing of Old Joe?
