I've been lurking for years, but I finally got an idea that I think's worth sharing. I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with this yet, but I think this could be fun nonetheless.
They passed the amendment in 2173. Both congress and the states ratified it by overwhelming majorities. Scholars would always wonder how much the demographic shift influenced the vote. Some argued that with women becoming 60% of the population the lawmakers wanted to maintain a hegemony that they’d never had before. Others said that the patriarchy still existed and the 34th Amendment was its next wheezing grasp at relevance.
Political philosophy was pretty far in the back of Roxie Taylor’s mind at the moment. Jesus Christ (can you belive that’s still an expression?), she hadn’t meant for the poor girl to die. She saw a punch coming at her and threw another punch back. A crack, some sirens, and now she’s sitting in front of Magistrate Judge Williams hoping she’ll get lucky if she gets second degree murder.
“Has the jury reached a verdict?”
“We have, your honor.”
“How does the jury find?”
“On the count of murder in the first degree, we find the defendant, not guilty.”
Roxie could have screamed. Things were going her way! For once in her miserable life things were going her way!
“On the count of murder in the second degree we find the defendant, not guilty.”
This was too good to be true. She had run down her ex with her car, but he was an asshole and she only kind of meant to do it…
“On the count of manslaughter we find the defendant…guilty.”
Oh crap.
“Ms. Taylor, you have been found guilty of manslaughter.” Judge Williams was nothing if not sonorous. “The sentence is 5 years. Would you like to serve it in an oubli or would you like to volunteer?”
Roxie didn’t have to ask what she’d be volunteering for. She’d heard stories about wires and water and whips. But an oubli…could she handle that? She’d heard the stories of people who came out of them stark raving mad. Being conscious and unable to move can do a number on a person. How can you risk that?
She didn't even look at her podunk public defender, “I…I volunteer.”
A judge should probably not grin like that at sentencing. “Very well Ms. Taylor. Guards, take her to processing. Five years, Ms. Taylor. If you make it that long.”
As the clasps fastened around her wrists Roxie realized she was in over her head. The public defender, her parents, they were useless now. The door opened and she could hear the screams. Or laughs? Stumbling through the doorway she decided it was probably screams.
Oh crap.
They passed the amendment in 2173. Both congress and the states ratified it by overwhelming majorities. Scholars would always wonder how much the demographic shift influenced the vote. Some argued that with women becoming 60% of the population the lawmakers wanted to maintain a hegemony that they’d never had before. Others said that the patriarchy still existed and the 34th Amendment was its next wheezing grasp at relevance.
Political philosophy was pretty far in the back of Roxie Taylor’s mind at the moment. Jesus Christ (can you belive that’s still an expression?), she hadn’t meant for the poor girl to die. She saw a punch coming at her and threw another punch back. A crack, some sirens, and now she’s sitting in front of Magistrate Judge Williams hoping she’ll get lucky if she gets second degree murder.
“Has the jury reached a verdict?”
“We have, your honor.”
“How does the jury find?”
“On the count of murder in the first degree, we find the defendant, not guilty.”
Roxie could have screamed. Things were going her way! For once in her miserable life things were going her way!
“On the count of murder in the second degree we find the defendant, not guilty.”
This was too good to be true. She had run down her ex with her car, but he was an asshole and she only kind of meant to do it…
“On the count of manslaughter we find the defendant…guilty.”
Oh crap.
“Ms. Taylor, you have been found guilty of manslaughter.” Judge Williams was nothing if not sonorous. “The sentence is 5 years. Would you like to serve it in an oubli or would you like to volunteer?”
Roxie didn’t have to ask what she’d be volunteering for. She’d heard stories about wires and water and whips. But an oubli…could she handle that? She’d heard the stories of people who came out of them stark raving mad. Being conscious and unable to move can do a number on a person. How can you risk that?
She didn't even look at her podunk public defender, “I…I volunteer.”
A judge should probably not grin like that at sentencing. “Very well Ms. Taylor. Guards, take her to processing. Five years, Ms. Taylor. If you make it that long.”
As the clasps fastened around her wrists Roxie realized she was in over her head. The public defender, her parents, they were useless now. The door opened and she could hear the screams. Or laughs? Stumbling through the doorway she decided it was probably screams.
Oh crap.
