One day a man wakes up and finds himself in deep trouble.
The cops tell him he is accused of some terrible crimes.
"I didn't do anything!" the accused man insists, but the cops say they
have all the evidence they need to convict him.
"What can I do? Who will help me?"
The Court provides a Public Defender who is a court-appointed lawyer.
The man consults and pleads with his attorney, "I'm innocent."
The lawyer says, "Nobody is innocent. Plead guilty and throw yourself
on the mercy of the Court. Maybe the judge will be lenient."
Unsurprisingly, the accused fellow refuses, insisting an innocent man who accepts false charges against himself, is worse than a criminal for betraying his own innocence.
The day of the trial arrives.
The Public Defender represents the defendant in Court and stands before the Judge saying:
"My client is guilty of thinking himself innocent, Your Honor. He refuses to plead guilty. He will not throw himself on the mercy of the Court."
The Trial proceeds.
The accusations are read to the jury. The Prosecutor lays out crimes to the jurors. Witnesses are called and testimony is given.
The Public Defender does the best he can, but the conviction comes easily after only an hour's deliberation.
At the time of sentencing, the Judge lays down his judgment upon the convicted man who stands dumbfounded before the Court.
"This Court finds you guilty as charged. You are hereby sentenced to live the rest of your life in abject guilt, depression, and misery for the crimes you've committed. This sentence will be fully discharged only on the day of your death."
The prisoner is then released into the world.
He scrambles about living here and there for a time, and never making much of a mark at success. He starts and ends a few broken families. He begins drinking and falls into a deep well of depression, finally ending his life in suicide at the age of 50; prematurely aged, penniless, and held in no esteem by friends or family.
He's buried after a pauper's funeral attended by nobody except the gravedigger who patiently waits for the service to end.
As the last shovel full of soil is tossed on top of the cheap coffin, the gravedigger wipes the sweat from his brow and blows out his cheeks an exhausted puff of air.
"Damn," he moans, "this son of a bitch must have been a real bastard. Ain't nobody show up for this. Wonder what he did?"
Only a small marker remained atop the freshly sealed gravesite.
Here lies an innocent man who refused to admit his guilt. May he rot in Hell.
