Accused

This is an attempt at chat fiction, suggested to me by Pam Reeder. The rules are on the website here.

The story is one I really don't want to write. It is heavily influenced by “The Trial” by Franz Kafka but I am trying to do it in Conversation Fiction style.

Accused

There's banging at the front door.

It's dark, It’s about one o’clock in the morning

Is the house on fire, what?

More banging

I slip on a dressing gown and go down and answer the door

Two men in black uniform, well maybe uniform, and with assault rifles.

“Francis Michael Singleton?”

“Yes, What Do You Want?”

“Get Dressed, You Are Coming With Us”

“What, Why, What’s Happening?”

“Get Dressed Or We’ll Take You Like That”

I put on underpants, jeans, T-Shirt and socks and sneakers

“What’s this about?”

“In The Van”

“But Where Are We Going?”

Silence

I got on to a seat. The door was shut

They both sat in the front

The Van Stopped

“Get Out, Come With Us”

We got to a shabby room

“Fingerprints, blood, DNA, throat and nose swabs”

“What is this for?”

“You’ll be called to trial next week”

“What Am I Accused of?”

“You have been accused, that is all you need to know”

They drove me home in silence and dropped me off

I have been accused, but what of?

Conversation with a friend:

Me: “I have been accused of something and I have been called to trial”

Friend:” What have you done?”

Me: “I really don’t know”

Friend: “You must have done something, no smoke without fire”

Me: “I haven’t and I am not sure they are actually the police”

Friend: “But you are fucking weird, I mean the music you like and you actually read books”

Me: “What the fuck has that got to do with it”

Friend: “Well you have probably done something illegal and that's why you have been picked up”

Conversation Ends

I had to wait

I was scared

I had done nothing but I was going to trial and I didn't know what for

Another know at the door

This time it was mid-day and I was dressed

“Francis Michael Singleton, you are called to trial, You have been accused”

I didn’t ask, I knew better than that.

This had no logic but there was nothing I could do.

Even my friends thought I had probably done something wrong to deserve this.

In Court

We came to an enormous black building and I was pulled into to a room with some canteen tables.

There was a judge, well I think he was a judge, in a wig.

Judge: “Francis Michael Singleton, You have been accused and found guilty, do you have anything to say, it doesn’t matter you are guilty”

Me: “Can you tell me what I have been accused of”

Judge: “You have been accused, your execution is suspended but if you are accused again I will have no option but to send you for a lethal injection”

Me:” Tell me what I am guilty of”

Judge: “Dismissed”

An Explanation From An Advocate:

Me: “What the hell is happening why won’t they tell me?”

Advocate: “It is simple, once you are executed the state takes all your possessions, also your accuser gets a ten per cent bonus although they will soon find themselves in your position, it could even be one of your friends, probably is”

Me: “How is this even allowed”

Advocate: “Since the United Kingdom became a one-party state (which the electorate voted for with a landslide in the referendum after directions from mainstream media) the government finally sold off what was left of the NHS. Their owners still wanted more money but there was nothing left to sell, so they came up with this plan to legally strip everything from everyone. The thing is eventually even this will run out and then I haven’t got a clue. If you can get out of this country do it, otherwise they will be coming for you”