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Jack

Josephine_Reeve
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chs / week
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NOT RATINGS
5.6k
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Synopsis
A young man accused of a crime he did not commit has to start his life all over again. Upon his release, he starts experiencing weird dreams and visions of the world he lives in ending in a sea of flames. Is this real? Or is this just the effects of being homeless and ultimately lost?
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Chapter 1 - The price of a false accusation

This day was like any other day. A day that meant nothing to many, a celebration to few, maybe even heartbreak to a few more. This day is nothing special for the majority. But not for Jack. This day was everything to Jack. This day was his first day of freedom since his days behind bars. Jack knew he never belonged there, but the court was not on his side that day and the very little evidence held against him was held in court, sealing his fate.

He lost everything that day. His place in university, his home, his friends, family, acquaintances; they all saw him with different eyes and didn't believe the words he spoke when trying to explain what happened. He lost his dog, his biggest heartbreak. The creature that he got for company a few years back because he was lonely in a flat by himself while attending University. That creature never judged him; truly neutral. That dog was taken away on the day he was sent to prison, sent to a kennel and put up for rehoming a few weeks later.

Jack managed to convince the resident social worker to talk to the kennels. He pleaded to them to see if they can just keep his dog there as a temporary resident; promising that his lawyer was helping gather evidence to present to court again to prove his innocence. A task that the social worker deemed impossible, but wanting to humour him he agreed to his request. The social worker came to an agreement with the kennels; the dog is to be kept as a temporary resident and if-IF, the owner is cleared of their crime then the social worker will pay for the boarding fees

Jacks' lawyer worked hard. She worked endlessly, gaining as much evidence as she could to get her client out of his unjust sentence. But she had many factors to work against, his DNA was inside the girl placing the charge and there was seemingly no consent that could be found; it didn't look good for him, everything pointed to him committing a crime. She did everything she could think of until she found a shining light in what seemed like a dark road. His online files. She knew Jack was always a cautious creature and everything he did he liked to evidence; seemingly a hangover from writing term papers for his University course. She managed to get into his online file system, with his permission of course, and found a recording

She represented that evidence for Jack while he was there via Video call for his own safety. The evidence that showed the woman he slept with had indeed consented, Jack did not r**e her like she was claiming. She could thank every god she knew the name of for letting her gain access to what she needed to prove this man's innocence. The recording Jack had taken proving everything was done with consent

"Your honor; I would like to present this evidence which proves my Client, Jack Sommers, is an innocent man and not the criminal the plaintiff has painted him to be." She told the judge proudly, absolutely certain that she was right. The judge was wary of this evidence. A r**e charge is a heavy one and will ruin a mans reputation; Jacks' name was already dragged through the mud. What more damage could be done? The judge accepted it, the taunting of the plaintiffs lawyer in the background. The judge allowed his courtroom officer to plug the USB device into the laptop and allowed the playback of the sound file.

"Are you sure you want to do this? We don't have to, it's fine to not continue" Jacks' voice could be heard asking her. A small hum before a laugh could be heard on the recording as well as the sound of fiddling with the phone, it was hard to tell if the device was in his pocket or in his hand.

"I am I've been wanting to get into your pants for a while; It'll be fun I promise." The plaintiffs voice responded followed before more shuffling and muffled sounds of laughter before the recording ended.

That over cautious nature of Jack is what made him the free man is his this day; but his reputation was still ruined. He would always be seen as a guilty man in the eyes of everyone and while he may never gain back the reputation he once had, he couldn't thank his lawyer enough for getting the evidence together in what seemed like impossible odds. On this day, the day of his release, he was given back his personal items; clothes, his mobile phone, wallet, flat keys (although they were no longer needed but he still had to return them) and dog poo bags; something he carried out of habit as he walked his dog everyday before this nightmare.

He took a deep breath of the fresh air, something he never thought he'd smell again. He was nervous, the butterflies in his stomach couldn't settle no matter how much he tried to think of something else. There were so many things he could do now, so much to catch up on. That was until the feeling of dread overcame him; his reputation was ruined after all and in this small town everyone knew who you were. His family hadn't spoken to him at all since he had been in jail and neither did his friends. The university removed him from his dental course.

Jack lost everything.

But there was one thing he could now look forward to. His dog. The hound that never judged him and loved him unconditionally. The same dog that the prison social worker would now have to pay for to be released. His phone had long died due to lack of battery and so he walked up to the guard station of the prison, earning a questioning look from the guard.

"Could you tell me the time please?" He asked as confidently as he could. His voice wavering from a mixture of nervousness, dread and doubt. The guard rolled his eyes and sighed heavily then took a glance at his wrist watch.

"It's three thirty sir; anything else I can help you with?" The reply from the guard was uncaring; bored. He had better things to do then entertain this now free redhead. Jack shook his head, and quickly backed away from the guard station with a thank you being squeaked out.

There was still time, the social worker should be here any moment; he promised he would be. So Jack waited outside in the slowly darkening sky. He sat himself on the curb of the road and ran a hand through his hair, now much longer. It was short when he entered prison, it took nine months for his lawyer to gain his freedom; he couldn't afford a haircut not right now. Sighing, he took out his wallet from his jean pocket and flipped it open checking the contents. Provisional drivers licence, bank card, library card, NHS organ donation card (should he just die randomly) and a little bit of money in notes; about fifteen pounds in total.

"I could buy a few days worth of food and dog food with this." He muttered, flicking through the notes.

"You should think about accomodation first...where will you be staying, Jack?" The voice behind him said, making the young man jump and bite the inside of his cheek.

He looked behind him; it was the social worker. He was a stocky man, blonde hair greying around the sides and thinning on top, a small bit of stubble dotting his face. His suit now starting to get creased and shirt untucked from a long day of work. He looked tired. He looked annoyed and all Jack could do was smile sheepishly like a small child getting caught with his hands in the cookie jar.

"I'll figure something out Mr Skate; Could we just go get my dog please? Like you promised?" Jack asked, the hints of excitement in his voice. Mr Skate nodded in the direction for Jack to follow, his hands digging through his pockets son followed by the jingling of keys.

"We'll get your mutt and then you can decide what to do from there. I have to admit, I didn't expect your case to be won and overturned. I hope you can enjoy the freedom." Mr Skate told the young man, the hints of genuine care in his voice. Jack couldn't help but smile widely. They reached his car, an old battered thing that looked far too small for the stocky man; how they were going to fit a dog in that thing Jack didn't know.

The car ride was a silent one, Mr Skate didn't really want to be there but he was not one to turn back on his words. Jack admired him for that, he was an honest man trying to make a living. The ride lasted no more than twenty four minutes, ending at a building called "Tracys' Kennels and Cattery", a graphic of a paw print underneath the italic writing on the swing board. The building was surrounded by lush green fields enclosed with a fence, and trees that went on into the distance; this was the perfect place for a kennel. This was well out of Jacks' price range.

"Alright, come with me; I'm sure your mutt will be glad to see you." Mr Skate told him, getting out of the car stiffly, grunting as his muscles tried to unlock themselves from the car ride.

"Nisha." Jack told him quietly.

"Excuse me?" Mr Skate replied, obviously confused by the unusual name.

"Nisha...my dog's name. She's called Nisha, Mr Skate." Jack repeated once more, following suit and getting out of the car to allow the man to lock it. Mr Skate grunted in response, a "whatever" being hissed out as the car was locked. He turned on his heel, and quickly made his way towards the entrance, Jack in tow.

As the pair entered the building, the smell of wet fur being strong and the sound of barking was piercing. The reception was decorated with dog friendly furniture, some of it was seemingly popular for the dogs to chew on. Jack stayed quiet as Mr Skate walked up to the counter, clearing his throat to grab the assistants attention. She jumped at the sound, a timid look on her face as she faced this stocky man.

"I'm here for a dog, Nisha." Mr Skate told her. The girl paused for a moment, then flicked through the black check out book. She gave a small "Oh" and turned her attention back to Mr Stake.

"Can you just confirm your name please and Nisha's breed?" She asked him timidly; Jack couldn't decide if she was naturally shaky or if Mr Skate's presence made her that way.

"I'm Mr Antonius Skate, Nisha is a...a... What is she, Jack?" He stumbled, a dumbfounded look on his face, and turned his attention to Jack for help.

"Border Collie." Jack answered him.

"She's a Border Collie." Mr Skate parroted to the assistant, who had a light smile on her face from the small exchange. She nodded her head regardless.

"Okay, just wait here I'll get her for you." She said to the pair, closing that black book and moving it from the counter top.

Jack did as he was told and stayed put, taking a seat in the chewed up sofa. The air filled with silence but there was no tension. A comfortable silence with the analog clock making small ticking noises as it turned to a new minute.

"Thank you, Mr Skate. For doing this for me. I appreciate it." Jack told the man, looking up to the blonde as he leaned against the counter top. Mr Skate raised an eyebrow at him, then huffed air through his nose, his hand waving dismissively.

"Don't mention it; I made a promise and I kept it. I just hope you are able to get your life sorted now." He said to him, earning silence in response. Jack couldn't think of anything further to say; what could he say? He had to start his life all over again.

Before he was giving more time to think, he heard the clattering of claws against the tiled floor and before long he was jumped on. Jack was shocked for a moment before realisation hit him. This fluffy ball of tail wagging and excited whimpering was his dog. This was Nisha. Jack slide himself off the couch and wrapped his arms around the sheep dog who had jumped onto her hind legs and placed her front paws onto his shoulder, pressing her cold nose straight into his ear. He could feel the corners of his eyes watering; he missed this creature. He missed how this creature greeted him and demanded his attention at the worst of times.

Out of everything, this creature was the thing that remained the same and while his life was ruined and he didn't have a plan on what to do next; he enjoyed this single moment; a moment of joy in a world that was cruel.