Date: Fri, 16 Jun 2000 01:09:18 EDT From: William Watts Subject: A Tragic Love - chapter 15 Legal Notice: The following story contains descriptions of graphic sexual acts. The story is a work of fiction and has no basis in reality. Don't read this story if: **You're not 18 or over, **If it is illegal to read this type of material where you live, **Or if you don't want to read about gay/bi people in love or having sex. The author retains copyright to this story. Placing this story on a website or reproducing this story for distribution without the author's permission is a violation of that copyright. Legal action will be taken against violators. If you have enjoyed reading this story, you will find other stories by me at http://www.teenboyauthors.org/thewolf/, in the 'Other Stories' section. E-mail responses to the stories, story suggestions or other 'constructive' comments or advice may be sent to: bwstories44@hotmail.com. * * * * * * * * A Tragic Love - by BW (Young-Friends). Copyright 2000 by bwstories44 Chapter 15 - Justice really is blind. January 2000 Patrick went with me to the funeral. We saw Mr. Michaels but he didn't approach us, so we didn't approach him. There were so many things we should have said to each other but all of those things remained unspoken. At the cemetery, I placed a bouquet of five red roses on the casket, one for each for the five years we had been in love. Patrick was a tower of strength for me and he was by my side through the whole, heart- wrenching affair. The only reason that I had left for living was to see that David's murderer got the punishment he deserved. When we returned to our place, there were several messages from the police department. We left again, to go to the station, and I filled out an affidavit about the night that David had been brutally murdered. One of the officers informed me that the second suspect was also in custody, he had been apprehended not far from the area on that same evening. Some of our friends had already identified him in a line-up so it wouldn't be necessary for me to see him again. We went home feeling satisfied that the wheels of retribution were definitely in motion. I could still see those ugly, hateful looks on their faces. The newspaper reported that Richard Beilec, the man who beat David, had been a long-standing member of a neo-nazi organization. The other man, Harvey Waters, had been spending the majority of his time with Beilec for the past several months. I guess hatred is contagious after all. My friends and I had been working closely with the District Attorney's Office, trying to make sure they had all the information we knew about the case, so he could put those guys away for a long time. He was going to attack this case as a hate crime, hatred against two young men for being born different than themselves. The stack of evidence was enormous. The prosecutors had motive (hatred), one defendant had been picked up at the scene with the bloody club still in his hand and the other defendant had been positively identified by three of our friends. There was also the medical testimony about David's injuries and cause of death and my moment-by-moment account of that evening that shall always remain burned into my memory. This case was a slam-dunk for the prosecution. All the preliminary court appearances were over and the trial date was set. Although the preparation for the trial made me live that night over and over again, I was going to do anything that I had to do just to make sure these two beasts were punished. Of course, I was scheduled as a witness for the prosecution but the District Attorney kept telling me that it might not come to that. He was still hoping to work out a plea agreement by offering Beilec life in prison as opposed to the death penalty and giving Waters fifteen to twenty-five instead of the twenty-five to life. I agreed that these would be satisfactory sentences and hoped the deal could be made. I always thought that the death penalty was the easy way out. You kill the criminal and wham it's done and over with. You put him in prison for life and he has every day to think about why he was there and time to consider how he lost his freedom. The only thing that would be better would be if he had to keep reliving the crime over and over again, through the eyes of his victim. I didn't mind giving Waters a lesser sentence, either. Sure, he was with Beilec but he didn't do anything to David and I had hardly been hurt. The law considered him an accomplice to murder, so be it. I certainly wasn't going to shed any tears for him and, if he got out, he might be more selective when choosing his friends. The trial started and the prosecution presented a flawless case. After I testified, I joined Patrick every day in the gallery watching the proceedings. Mr. Michaels was also there but once again no words passed between us. I could tell that he was visibly upset as the details of the crime were presented and I ventured a guess that no one had informed him of these facts earlier. The prosecution rested its case and the defense began its presentation. We were all shocked when we learned of the defense strategy. They were claiming David and I had made repeated passes at the defendants and that we had pursued them even after they had rejected us. Seeing that the four of us were the only ones who were present at the beginning of the attack and David wasn't here to tell his side of the story, it was my word against theirs. They claimed that after repeated advances and propositions from us, they just snapped and didn't remember what happened after that. They did remember picking their weapons off of the street, which I doubted, and they claimed that the whole attack was their spontaneous response to our aggressiveness. Get that, our aggressiveness. I thought that the D.A. had done a good job casting doubt about their defense and I was fairly confident as the case went to the jury. The jury deliberated for three days, three days of second-guessing our strategies and trying to get into the minds of the jury members to see if we could tell what they were thinking. It was during those nights of the trial that I slept my worst, not that I've slept very well since David had died, but those were particularly bad nights. We were seated in the courtroom when the jury came back with their verdict. >From that minute on, the whole scene seemed to progress in slow motion. As each count of the verdict was read, and there were several counts against each defendant, all I could remember was the jury foreperson saying 'not guilty'. I was stunned beyond belief but somewhere along the line I did hear a 'guilty' verdict for one of the charges. The courtroom erupted in mayhem as family and friends were outraged about what they had just heard. The judge tried desperately to regain order as he banged his gavel down repeatedly and asked for 'order in the court'. I, finally, came back to my senses during this period and I walked up to the D.A. and asked him what the guilty verdict was for. He looked at me, with an expression of failure etched on his face, and he answered me that it was for the simple assault charge. I asked him what they could get for that and he told me that it could mean up to a year in jail. A year! Just a year and in jail and not prison! It couldn't be. This was not possible. Was the jury filled with homophobes? How could this have happened? I ran to Patrick, clutched his arm and dragged him from the courtroom. I couldn't stand to look at the smug expressions on Beilec's and Water's faces. I stood outside trying to discuss what happened with Patrick, questioning how this could have possibly come about. I happened to look up just in time to see Mr. Michaels leave the courthouse. He had fire in his eyes and he stood at the top of the outer stairway, scanning the area. He spotted us and he bolted down the steps in our direction. He came straight for me, looking like he might want to rip my heart out, when another person stepped between us. He tried to push this person away, I'm not sure who it was, but, when he saw that he couldn't move him, he stood there screaming at me. "This is all your fault you little asshole. If it wasn't for you David would still be alive. I knew that you were no good from the start. It was your turning David into a queer that cost him his life. I tried to protect him. I tried to keep him from you but, no, you had to have him even if it meant killing him in the process. You're to blame. This is all your fault." At first, I was stunned by the viciousness of this attack but, soon, I was equally pissed. He wasn't going to unload this whole thing on me. I was going to tell him what I thought about his role in this whole mess, as well. "It was your narrow-mindedness that caused this not mine. Why couldn't you just accept us for who we were? We didn't ask to be gay. I didn't make David gay. We were born gay. Why couldn't you understand that? Why couldn't you accept the fact that we loved each other deeply? Why did you try so hard to split us up? "If you hadn't had me arrested and sent away, we wouldn't have had to sneak around and meet like criminals. David wouldn't have had to come looking for me, yes, he was the one who first contacted me when I got out of juvenile hall. He wouldn't have moved away from you or your home. He wouldn't have been estranged from you and we wouldn't have been coming from that church that night and we wouldn't have been on that street. The only reason we were there is that David thought he might find a way to get you to accept us as a couple. That's all he wanted. That's all he asked for. He just wanted you to accept the fact that we were a couple who were deeply in love. Yes, two boys can be deeply in love. Our friends could accept it. Why couldn't you? "True, maybe I was partially to blame for this but so were you. You can't put this entirely on my shoulders because you're to blame as well. All David wanted was your love and acceptance and you wouldn't give it to him. You wouldn't give it to us." Mr. Michaels was stunned by the forcefulness of my verbal attack. At first he just stood there in shock and then, as my words struck home, he collapsed into a sobbing lump of man flesh. Instinctively, I went to him and hugged him. I didn't hate the man. I just didn't understand him. After all, he was David's father and the only link that I still had to my love. After many minutes of crying and holding him, he looked up at me with the saddest eyes I had ever seen. "I'm sorry. Will you forgive me? I thought I was protecting David but I was only hurting him more. Please, say you'll forgive a stupid old man." I forgave him and we both cried, there on the grass, for a long, long time. I just wish David could have seen this. He, finally, understood but it was too late. It was too late for David, too late for himself and too late to save our love. I went through the next several months numb and in a stupor. David had put both Patrick's name and mine on the savings account he had opened when we all moved in together, so we had money to live off of without working. Both of us quit our jobs. I quit because I couldn't force myself out of the apartment and Pat quit because he didn't trust what I'd do if he left me alone. Patrick and his girl friend spent nearly every minute with me fearing that I might do something drastic if they weren't around. As the months wore on I began to bring myself out of my deep depression. I think that I had something roughly planned in the back of my mind. I started to go out on my own and I started seeing some of my other friends. I never forgot about David or about how the justice system had failed us for the second time. I went back to the police station and found out when Beilec and Waters were getting out of jail. I, also, found out that the release time was at midnight. As the day of their release approached, I just couldn't stop thinking about it. When that evening arrived, I put on my overcoat, grabbed a couple of other items that I thought I might need and I walked over to the county jail to watch these two scum go free. I stood, leaning against a lamppost, across from the main entrance to the jail and I waited. A couple of minutes after midnight, I saw the two of them walk out the front door, down the stairs to the sidewalk and, then, into the street. They were laughing and having a good time with each other. I started walking toward them and Beilec immediately saw me. "Look who's here, Harv. It's one of the fag boys. I guess he's come back for some more. Looks like he needs a real man to fill the void, now that he faggy lover is dead." I pushed the right side of my coat back and lifted the shotgun that was hidden underneath it. Beilec was stunned as I lifted the weapon, pointed it at his chest and pulled the trigger. Waters started screaming and ran away as I pumped another round into the chamber. I stood over Beilec's prostrate form and fired a second round into his chest. Several deputies ran out of the Sheriff's department, weapons drawn and pointing at me. I dropped the shotgun that I had stolen from my grandfather's house and I raised my hands. I was put under arrest and taken to the same jail Beilec had just left. I didn't fight the charges that were filed against me. Hell, I had nothing left to live for. I didn't even try to defend myself because even I felt that my actions were indefensible. I just felt at the time that something had to be done and that Beilec couldn't be allowed to get away with what he did to my lover. I made my lawyer turn the trial into a political statement and we also corrected some of the misconceptions from the first trial. Harvey Waters agreed to testify on my behalf that we had never made a pass at them that night long ago and that we had done nothing to provoke the assault. He admitted that Beilec took them both there for the sole purpose of beating up a few queers. He also admitted that Beilec had brought that club with him and it was not a weapon of convenience. He had nothing to lose from admitting this now, as he never claimed any of that himself at the first trial. Because of that fact, there was no possible perjury charge against him and he couldn't be retried because of double jeopardy. I think that he also felt that he owed me that much for not killing him too and for letting him walk away that evening. We made David a martyr against hate crimes and we let people know that gay bashing was not an acceptable pastime. We made the statement that gays were not just a group of sissies and cowards who could be pushed around and assaulted at will. We let the world know that we would fight back and we would exact revenge for crimes committed against us, even if the law couldn't or wouldn't do so. I didn't pursue any appeals to my conviction, either, and I turned down numerous offers of assistance where that was concerned. I was sentenced to death for premeditated murder and I accepted it stoically. I guess the justice system does work on occasion. That's why I'm lying here on this cold metal table. I only asked for one thing to happen after my death. There was only one thing that would have any meaning or add any positive reason for my existence. I asked Patrick to make sure that I was buried with the chain and all of the charms that David had given me. I wanted him to be with me forever, even in death. As the poison begins to enter my veins and starts to do its job, my mind drifts to thoughts of David and I leave this world thinking only of him, and I look forward to being with my lover once more. * * * * * * "I wish to report that William Raymond Maynard was put to death by lethal injection for crimes committed against the People of the State of New York. The official time of death was 12:17 A.M., Eastern Standard Time. * * * * * * * * If you have enjoyed reading this story, you will find other stories by me at http://www.teenboyauthors.org/thewolf/, in the 'Other Stories' section. E-mails may be sent to: bwstories44@hotmail.com.