PRESUMED GUILTY

All my life, I’ve been different. Different beyond understanding, even my own. I have a gift. I can see things. Not things that might happen, not probabilities, not guesses. But things that will happen. Every vision I’ve ever had has come to pass, without fail. And so I did what I had to do to protect everyone. Now, I sit here, surrounded by people who glare at me with hatred, people who call me heartless. They have no idea what I’ve sacrificed for them. No clue what I’ve done to keep them safe.

The crowd is restless, their voices colliding into a roar that bounces off the marble walls of the courthouse. Echoes reverberate through the chamber as I sit in the defendant’s chair, elevated just slightly above the gallery. My hands rest one over the other, bound by cold steel, and my right leg bounces uncontrollably from nerves. When I dare to look behind me, I see only faces full of contempt, misunderstanding, and disgust. Then I turn forward to the man who will decide my fate. Judge Ramirez. His expression is unreadable as he lifts his gavel and strikes it down against the block.

“ALL RISE!” His voice booms, commanding instant obedience. “The court case of Mr. Jax vs. the State of California is now in session.”

The sound of the gavel echoes again, sharp and final, making me flinch.

“Department One of the Superior Court of California is now in session. The Honorable Judge Ramirez presiding.”

The bailiff calls the case formally. The judge clears his throat.

“Good morning. Calling the case of The People of the State of California vs. Mr. Jax. Are both sides ready?”

Prosecutor Smith rises first. She doesn’t hide the disgust in her eyes when they meet mine. She looks at me as though she’s already won, as though she can already feel the guilty verdict in her hands.

“Ready for the People, Your Honor.”

Then my defense attorney, Jamison Reed, stands. He’s the only one who believes me, the only one who dares to trust my story.

“Ready for the defense, Your Honor.”

“Mr. Jax, please rise.”

Chains clink as I push myself up. My wrists ache under the cuffs, but I hold my head high.

“You are charged with one count of second-degree murder under Penal Code Section 187,” Judge Ramirez says evenly. “How do you plead?”

I hesitate. The words taste like iron in my mouth.

“…Not guilty, Your Honor.”

“Very well. Let the record reflect that the defendant has entered a plea of not guilty. We will now proceed with opening statements. Prosecution, you may begin.”

Opening Statement – Prosecution

“Your Honor, ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” Prosecutor Smith begins, her voice clear and cutting. “On the night of January 16th, Mr. Jax, an FBI agent, joined his task force to infiltrate a drug operation. He entered a private residence without permission, without a warrant. When the operation concluded and every perpetrator was already in custody, Mr. Jax fired his weapon and killed a young man in cold blood.”

Her words hang heavy in the air. I feel every eye in the courtroom shift toward me, burning holes through my skin.

“The evidence,” she continues, pacing slowly, “will show something else. Something heinous. Something sinful. That he killed this man for a reason we cannot yet disclose. You will hear testimony from fellow officers, from his girlfriend. You will see bodycam and surveillance footage that places Mr. Jax at the scene. And when all is said and done, you will have no choice but to return a verdict of guilty.”

Opening Statement – Defense

Jamison stands, calm but commanding. He buttons his suit jacket, then looks directly at the jury.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I remind you that Mr. Jax is presumed innocent under the law. That presumption remains unless the prosecution proves guilt beyond a reasonable doubt. The evidence will show that Mr. Jax was justified in the shooting of an individual involved in criminal activity. More importantly, the circumstances surrounding his arrest are riddled with inconsistencies and unanswered questions. We ask that you listen carefully. At the end of this trial, you will see that Mr. Jax is not guilty.” I hear the police sirens from outside the courtyard and suddenly I’m back there. all over again.

15 months earlier-

The night was thick with sound and chaos. Sirens wailed, red and blue lights strobed across the street, and voices clashed in a mixture of anger and disbelief. Cursing. Shouting. The aftermath of a takedown.

I walked through the storm with my FBI jacket tight across my shoulders and my firearm heavy at my hip. Around me, agents and officers corralled suspects and secured evidence.

My partner, Emily Guard, approached through the chaos. Her long red hair swung from her ponytail as she gave me that familiar half-smirk.

“This was a big bust,” she said. “Does the DEA even do their job anymore?”

I chuckled despite the tension in my chest. “I don’t know. But this is one hell of a catch. We need to get back, Guard. There’s still paperwork to bury us alive.”

“Ugh.” She groaned, rolling her eyes.

“Where’s everyone else?” I asked.

“Jordan and the others are still inside, finishing the count.”

“Alright. Call CSI. We need all this cocaine processed and off the street.”

She nodded and turned back toward the squad car.

I stayed behind, scanning the crowd. Faces blurred together, some angry, some broken. People looked at me like I was the villain, not the agent taking poison off their streets.

Then my eyes stopped.

One figure stood out, a young man, maybe twenty, twenty-five at most. And instantly, the air shifted. My chest tightened. I knew.

Something was about to happen.

Something I couldn’t stop.

I feel it deep within the depths of everything I know is real.

The sensation strikes like lightning, overtaking every inch of me. My fingers tingle, my chest tightens, and reality itself begins to distort. The noise of the bust fades into a low hum, as if the world has been pulled away.

And then I see.

I see what’s surely to come. The same man. Henry Feil. His face sears into my mind. He is the end of my livelihood, the end of so much more. In the span of seconds, the future opens to me in a thousand shards of clarity. I don’t just see one possibility. I see millions. Every branch of fate. Every scenario. And in every single one, nothing changes. If he lives, innocent people will die.

My team. My friends. Children.

He looks like any ordinary young man, but beneath that mask he’s something else entirely. A spy planted by a terrorist group. He wasn’t swept up in this raid by accident. No, he wanted to be caught. He wanted to be taken in for questioning at FBI headquarters. That’s how he gets inside. That’s how he unleashes what he carries.

A biological weapon.

I see it unfold. The outbreak ripping through hallways, agents collapsing one by one. Families infected. Kids carrying it to school the next day. It spreads faster than fire, faster than anyone can contain. In just fourteen hours, it blankets the city. Millions infected. Millions dead.

It happens thousands of times in a split second. My vision tears me apart, and then, just as suddenly, I’m thrown back into my own body. The air feels thick. My lungs burn. My heart is racing.

I watch as two officers lift Henry from the ground. His eyes find mine. And then—he smirks. A cold, knowing smirk.

Panic claws at me. I can’t let this happen. I can’t.

But what can I do? Damn it, what can I do?

My hand goes to my firearm, trembling. My thoughts scream over each other, louder than the sirens, louder than the shouting all around.

Am I really going to do this? What if I’m wrong?

But I’ve never been wrong. Not once.

Still… to kill him now, before he’s acted? It would be murder. My life would be over. He hasn’t committed a crime yet, on paper, he’s just a suspect. But I know. I saw it. I know.

And the court won’t care about what I saw. They’ll see only a man gunned down without warning.

Shit.

I think of my family. My mother’s face. My father’s words. And then I see the future again children gasping for air, teachers collapsing, parents holding their kids as the sickness spreads. All because I hesitated.

There will be millions…

This isn’t a choice.

My hands steady as I pull out my gun. The weight feels heavier than it ever has. My heart is stone. My face numb. I squeeze the trigger. Once. Twice.

Brainless. Emotionless. but Necessary.

The man stumbles to the ground instantly, and I’m tackled by my own teammates.

Jordan Max, my friend, my brother-in-arms, is on top of me, his face twisted with shock and confusion.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” he screams, panic shaking his voice.

Emily stands frozen a few feet away, her eyes wide, her lips trembling. She doesn’t even move.

What did I expect? What now?

“I… it’s not what you think. L–look! Look at what he has on him!” I shout, struggling under Jordan’s weight.

PRESENT DAY- TRIAL

I sit in silence as my best friend takes the stand against me.

“He said the man had a biological weapon on him,” Jordan explains to the court.

“And did he?” the prosecutor asks coldly.

“…Yes, but-”

“No further questions, Your Honor.”

“You are dismissed,” Judge Ramirez says.

I sigh as Jordan leaves the witness stand. I can see the sympathy in his eyes, not because he believes I had a good reason, but because he thinks I snapped. That I broke under the pressure.

They all think I lost my mind. That I should plead insanity. That I’m insane.

What more could I expect?

“Calling the opposing counsel’s witness to the stand,” the prosecutor says.

“Your Honor, the prosecution would like to call Agent Emily Guard.”

“Sustained,” Judge Ramirez responds.

Emily rises slowly and walks to the stand. My partner of six years.

“Miss Guard,” the defense begins, “Mr. Jax has been your partner for six years. Is that correct?”

“That’s correct,” Emily says firmly.

“And in all those years, have you ever known him to be violent?

“No! …No, he’s not like that. He’s one of the best people I know.”

“And would you personally believe that Mr. Jax would do this, would fire his weapon without a good and reasonable cause?”

“OBJECTION!” Prosecutor Smith snaps. “This has no relation to the case.”

“It is directly relevant, Your Honor, to understanding his character.”

“Sustained. Counsel, get to the point.”

Jamison nods. “My point is this: Mr. Jax served in the military for seven years before sustaining a leg injury that led to an honorable discharge. His record is spotless. He has never once abused his power. He served his country, and later his community, by catching criminals. This history must be considered when the jury decides the fate of a good man’s life.”

Emily’s gaze flicks to me, her green eyes. those emeralds I’ve known for years. piercing straight through me. I can’t hold them long. I don’t know what she truly thinks. Maybe I don’t want to know.

Because none of this changes the fact: I did it. I pulled the trigger.

And I can’t explain why. Not in a way they’ll believe.

The prosecutor steps forward now.

“Miss Guard. You were there when the shooting occurred, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Then you also saw that the man Mr. Jax killed was already in cuffs. He was not a threat at the time.”

“Technically, yes. But he did have a biological weapon on him, one that could have killed millions if it had been released. Jax sav-”

“No, ma’am.” The prosecutor cuts her off sharply. “Because there were plenty of other things Mr. Jax could have done. He could have said something. Raised the alarm. Called it in. But he didn’t. Isn’t that true?”

Emily swallows. “…Yes.”

“You’ve known Mr. Jax since Quantico, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re aware of his mental history, are you not? Tell me, is it possible that-”

“OBJECTION!” Jamison Reed interrupts, slamming his hand on the table. “Speculation, Your Honor!”

Judge Ramirez raises his hand. “Overruled, Mr. Reed. I want to hear this.”

Shit.

“Is it possible,” Prosecutor Smith says, her tone sharp, “that Mr. Jax simply… flipped? That he saw a Muslim man and assumed he was a threat? That this could have been racially motivated?”

The air leaves my chest like I’ve been punched. That’s not true. Damn it. That’s not what happened. I bite my tongue until I taste blood. I can’t win this. They’ll never know why I did what I did.

“OBJECTION!!” Jamison roars. “Your Honor, this is complete slander, defamation of my client’s character!”

“Sustained,” Judge Ramirez says firmly. “Move on, counsel.”

The gavel cracks once.

Jamison exhales, then straightens. “Your Honor, I request a short recess. Five minutes to confer with my client.”

“Granted. This trial will continue after fifteen minutes,” Judge Ramirez replies. Another strike of the mallet, final and echoing.

We’re led into a private room. The bailiff removes my cuffs. The silence feels heavier than the courtroom.

Jamison rubs the back of his neck and lowers his voice. “Jax… you know this isn’t going well. I’m sorry, but I really don’t think there’s much that will convince them you’re sane, or that what you did was justified. I… I think your best option is to take a plea deal. Plead insanity. I’m sorry.”

I stare at the table, at the scars etched into the wood from years of fists and pens and desperation. My chest aches.

“I know,” I whisper. “I know. I don’t regret what I did. I just… I at least want one person to know the truth.” My voice cracks as I lean forward. “I saw it. I saw what would happen. If that weapon was released, millions would have died. I couldn’t let that happen. You have to believe me.”

Jamison looks at me for a long moment. His eyes soften, then harden again. “I understand, Jax. And trust me, you’re going to be fine.”

My heart stutters. “Y… you believe me?”

He exhales slowly, shaking his head. “Jax… what you’re saying… it’s the perfect story. And that’s what it has to be. A story. With this, we can push for insanity, maybe reduce your sentence. With your clean record, you might get ten years. Maybe five.”

The words hit harder than any gavel.

“No,” I whisper. “No… I thought you believed me.”

“Jax,” he says quietly, leaning in. “Listen to me. Maybe you really are crazy, I don’t know. But I’m your lawyer. My job is to keep you alive. None of this is in your favor. The evidence, the testimony, the footage, it’s all against you. I need you to understand that. Pleading insanity isn’t giving up. It’s surviving. But if nothing else… at least tell me the truth. Why did you kill that man?”

My chest caves in. My heart drops like stone.

I should have known. I should have seen this coming. Hell, I’m the one cursed with sight. And yet I didn’t see this. betrayal by reality itself.

I bury my face in my hands, fingers raking through my hair. My fists clench so tight my knuckles burn. I want to scream, to shatter the walls. There’s no way out. No path left.

This is it.

I was born with a gift, why? To save people? To carry the weight of the future on my shoulders? To sacrifice everything I built, everything I fought for? I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t want this.

And now? Now I save all of their lives and this is how I’m thanked. Shackles, whispers of insanity, a future erased.

A bitter laugh escapes me. It sounds like a sob.

“Okay,” I whisper at last, hollow but certain. “Let’s do it. Let’s go insane.”

Jamison nods slowly, not realizing the truth in my words.

Because maybe that’s what I’ve been all along.

The End