Imprisoned for a crime you didn't commit...

Imprisoned for a crime you didn't commit. Everything's going just as you planned.

After the papers got hold of it I came out one morning to find my dog, Boomer, nailed to the front door. The nails were driven in so deep that in the end, after a failed tearful attempt with a claw hammer, I had to break her neck. Poor old Boomer, raised her from a pup.

I had sacrificed my life. Vicky and the kids moved out on the evening of the trial. All I did that night was sit on the old sofa with my thoughts. Thoughts of him.

The trial had been a media field day. People were sickened by what I hadn't done. All those families. All the work that had gone into framing myself. I didn't deny a thing.

I'm swinging for this crime I didn't do. But that's OK, because that gives me one chance, a five minute window to get Him. I'll be a skeleton in my family's closet for at least two generations. My grandchildren will deny me. But I'll rest easy, swinging freely, having taken my one unstoppable shot at him.