A Lawful Conviction

By Fred Shearer

A Lawful Conviction is a quickly paced story that finds sixteen year old Jamaal Compton lawfully convicted and sentenced as an adult for the accidental death of his mother's abusive boyfriend. He is ushered into an adult prison system where he is preyed upon and eventually sexually assaulted by a powerfully influential prisoner who wields a lot of control. During this assault Jamaal did not fight his assailant off, yell for help, or do anything to discourage this attack from happening. Jamaal is left physically and emotionally traumatized while questioning his own sexual identity, in addition to how he is now being viewed by other prisoners. He is quickly labeled a homosexual; however, when his assailant returns for more sex, Jamaal kills him with a homemade knife that he gets from the only real friend he has. This violent incident all but seals Jamaal's fate in prison and presents him with the possibility of spending the rest of his life incarcerated. He is charged with murder and appointed an attorney who is determined to convince him to plead guilty and accept a plea bargain. But in a strange twist, a streetwise black attorney who is related to one of the prisoners incarcerated at the facility where Jamaal is, reluctantly decides to meet Jamaal during an impromptu visit to the prison while visiting his own relative. The attorney gasp at the sight of Jamaal when he is brought in for a conference, not realizing that he would be interviewing a young kid as all of his preconceived notions and stereotypes that he had built up over the years instantly vanished. He agrees to represent Jamaal for the murder of his assailant. In court the case has loser written all over it when they are confronted with an all-white jury and an arrogant, special appointed prosecutor. But in an unprecedented legal maneuver Jamaal's attorney motions the court to allow the jury to view the crime scene. The prison.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: May 25, 2021
• ISBN: 9781665523370

Fred Shearer

Fred Shearer is a magnificent author with a deeply profound voice and gritty perspective on the arduous struggle that constantly plague the African-American male. He grew up a tough hardhead and was incarcerated in Virginia’s prison system for over twenty-six years, where he developed a love for reading and a passion for writing. His motivation for becoming a novelist was created when he struggled to find stories that spoke to the grim realities, and brilliant triumphs of incarcerated Black men. Stories that spoke to the family struggle, the legal and racial struggle, but most of all, the personal struggle. He was paroled from prison in 2012 and quickly assimilated to his newfound freedom. He obtained a commercial driver’s license and went into the trucking business. After marrying and having a daughter, he relocated his family to the Charlotte, North Carolina area. It was there, where he reconnected with his love of writing and pursuing his career as an author.

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LAWFUL

CONVICTION

FRED SHEARER

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AuthorHouse™

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

Phone: [phone]

© 2021 Fred Shearer. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 05/24/2021

ISBN: 978-1-6655-2338-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-2337-0 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

About the Author

CHAPTER ONE

J amaal stood in front of his bedroom mirror inspecting his appearance. He was dressed to impressed and nattily groomed. He sprayed his youthful neck and face with a douse of Polo cologne, then headed to his mother’s bedroom.

Hey ma, can you give me some money so I can go to the mall wit’ Chill and J? he asked.

Hand me my bag. His mother spoke mechanically, never removing her eyes from the sixty-five inch flat screen television that was as big as the small bedroom.

Where?

She lazily threw an arm up and pointed over to an oversized brown leather Coach bag that cost more than her rent.

I don’t see it.

Jamaal, this is a roach infested apartment in the hood, not the Taj Mahal. It’s right there, in front of your eyes.

Oh. Jamaal laughed as he walked through his mother’s line of vision, stepping in front the television to hand her the bag

Jamaal! Get out of my way. She vigorously used her hand and shooed him to the side. Come on big money! she urged the spinning wheel, digging around blindly in the bottom of her bag.

Ma! Jamaal was impatient.

H! She yelled, and magically, the contestant repeated the same alphabet, and was quickly buzzed wrong. Jamal was laughing hysterically when a much needed commercial came on, drawing his mother’s attention to where he wanted it. She lifted out her wallet and stretched out its mouth, and it spilled out empty. This then sent her on a desperate search into every compartment, with no avail. She became seriously focused, rolled over and climbed to her knees, and began dumping the entire bag out into a raining avalanche of high-end lipstick, nail polish, lotion, and other miscellany. But there was no money, not even spare change.

She got up off the bed without saying a word and stormed into the bathroom slamming the door behind her. Inside, she threw her hands to her hips and glared angrily.

Eddie, you sorry mother fucker! She yelled.

Nina, whats your problem now? Eddie spoke calmly, hanging his towel onto the towel rack.

Don’t play stupid with me! Where’s my damn money! Nina yelled again.

Eddie shook his head in exasperation. Here we go again with that dumb shit! I, ain’t got your fucking money, he emphasized, an angry scowl on his face. So don’t bring your ratchet ass in her raising your voice, starting that dumb shit

She moved forward and pushed her manicured fingers within inches of his face. You’re lying

Eddie pushed her hand away. I don’t have your money. So don’t come in here accusing me of that shit! he said, indignantly.

Eddie, I ain’t no damn fool! I had over two hundred fucking dollars, and my money didn’t just take flight!

Look, he began calmly. I ain’t saying all that! I’m just telling you I don’t have your money. What you need to do is get out of my face and go look for it. Your dumb ass probably smoked it away, he mumbled under his breath, making sure that she heard the criticism.

I’m going to look for it. Right here in your pants pocket, you no good, cheating ass motherfucker! Nina quickly grabbed for Eddie’s pants that were neatly draped across the towel rack, and was just as quickly shoved backwards.

Bitch, you know better than that! Don’t ever search my pockets or my phone. I’m tired of telling you that shit, he said indignantly, sounding like a cheap corner pimp in an Iceberg Slim novel.

Eddie, I want my fucking money. And I mean it! Nina grabbed for the pants again and this time was met with an open hand mushed into her face, executed with just enough force to send her stumbling.

You, stupid bitch! I told you. Don’t do that shit! Just take your roguish ass up to the mall.

Fuck you! Nina snapped angrily, reeling forward and grabbing Eddie’s pants. They began struggling for possession of them when Eddie angrily snatched control, ripping them along the seam.

They both froze and looked at the tear. These are Armani slacks, you dumb bitch! Now you owe me.

I don’t owe you shit! Everything your broke, unemployed ass got is because I gave it to you. Or some other sorry ass bitch. Nina was sure that Eddie had her money and was determined to get it. She made another attempt to grab the pants and when she did an aggressive tussle followed.

Fuck this! Eddie yelled, and suddenly pushed Nina back against the door with so much force that she came bouncing back with an unplanned slap to his face. This instantly sent him into a fury, and a barrage of blows aimed at her face followed. The blows sent her stumbling backwards, falling into the bathtub, pulling down the colorful red shower curtain stolen from Bed Baths and Beyond.

Jamaal was in his mother’s bedroom and had heard the entire exchange. It was a scene that he hated. It always started with shouting and ended with fist; Eddie’s Fist. And usually, Jamaal would go outside and sit on the apartment steps until Eddie left, but he was growing tired of hiding outside until the storm cleared. So when he heard his mother fall his heart ran cold with anger and his budding courage took over. He stepped into the narrow hall and pounded on the bathroom door with exaggerated force that belied his youth and courage.

Ma, you all right? He yelled to no response.

Suddenly, the door flew open. Eddie was standing in the doorway wearing his silk drawers, glaring challengingly. What the fuck you want, li’l punk?

Jamaal lowered his eyes and coward as expected when Eddie pushed pass him smirking. Fucking pussy.

Jamaal wasn’t tripping over the name calling, that’s what Eddie did. All he wanted was for Eddie to get away from his mother, so as far as he was concerned it was a win. He quickly rushed into the bathroom and knelt down beside his mother who was lying in the bathtub crying, her hands covering her face.

Ma, you okay?

Nina didn’t respond. She felt helpless and wondered why she put up with Eddie. He was good looking and the sex was sometimes good, that was if he could get it up after a long night of cheating with some other chick. But she was the one who had the misfortune of having him come back to her apartment night after night, smelling like trouble and living off of her. And she hated that Jamaal seen her being disrespected day in and out. She didn’t love him and he didn’t love her or Jamaal, and knowing this had her defeated and reduced to tears.

Ma? Jamaal tried to pry his mother’s hands away from her face.

Jamaal, stop. Please. She pleaded through her tears.

Ma, let me see! Jamaal demanded with unusual force that momentarily left Nina stunned. So she slowly relented and lowered her hands from her face to reveal a severely swollen right eye with a hideous, red purplish shine that betrayed the level of violence that Eddie had hit her with.

Seeing this sent Jamaal’s anger spinning out of control. He leaped to his feet and dashed to the kitchen in a frantic blur, opened the cabinet drawer and grappled with the knives, grabbing the biggest one he could put his hands on. He then stormed to the doorway of his mother’s bedroom and grimaced at Eddie, the glare from the light, kissing the serrated blade like an adoring fan at a Hollywood movie premiere.

Eddie was in the doorway of a small closet searching through jeans and slacks that were hung neatly on clothes hangers. He casually turned around and looked at Jamaal, unaffected by any potential threat. What the fuck you gonna do with that knife, he growled.

Jamaal stood glaring defiantly, never breaking eye contact. Something he normally wouldn’t have done, but the knife in his hand was giving him an enormous surge of confidence and he was now, not the least bit intimidated. He remained silent, and his motive was unmistakable. Jamaal was going to protect his mother, and for some perverse reason, this provoked Eddie.

Answer me Lil Bitch. What the fuck you think you gonna do with that knife, he blared again.

Nina was still in the bathroom when she gathered her wits and got up and quickly pushed her way by Jamaal, standing over him like a lioness protecting her cub. Eddie, you better not touch this boy! And I fucking mean it! She shouted.

Eddie smirked, face contorted. He the one with the knife, li’l scared bitch

You the bitch! Nina pointed and waved her index finger, head moving from side to side with vicious attitude. All up in here trying to beat on women and children.

Eddie started laughing scornfully. Keep on babying that Lil bitch. That’s why he one dick away from being a faggot now.

Nina became enraged and charged toward Eddie with her fist flailing wildly; however, he quickly sidestepped her with a hard shove that sent her sprawling across the bed and into the floor against the wall. This was when Jamaal stepped deeper into the room, committing himself to protecting his mother.

Yeah, Lil faggot ass motherfucker. Bring your soft ass up in here, Eddie snarled.

Eddie, just leave us alone, Jamaal whimpered, softly.

I’m gonna leave you alone alright. By taking that knife out of your scared ass hands and beating the shit out your young, bitch ass. Eddie began moving forward, wearing an evil scowl on his face. When he was within arm’s reach of Jamaal, he aggressively lunged forward. That’s when Jamaal’s reflex took over and he instinctively raised the knife, closing his eyes at the point of contact.

Everything thereafter happened in a frenetic blur. Jamaal could feel Eddie’s strong hands grab him and suddenly go weak. The impact and momentum of Eddie’s body sent them reeling back against the dresser, causing the unmounted television to rock precariously as a slight struggle followed. Abruptly, Eddie gave ground and began collapsing backwards with the blade of the knife buried into his chest. He began stumbling blindly until his legs failed him, falling face up on the floor. There was a strange gurgling sound coming from his mouth as his dark brown eyes that had mastered the art of flirtation began to slumber in and out consciousness as if he had ingested a powerful opiate laced with fentanyl.

Nina leaped to her feet, eyes wide with hysteria and disbelief. This was all wrong; not at all how she wanted things to happen. She would have been content giving Eddie the ax, doing him the same as ever other man before him; put his stuff in a box and throw it out in the parking lot and change the door lock. She screamed angrily before grabbing her cell phone.

911 Operator. Please state your emergency?

I need an ambulance at 2508 Chamberlayne Avenue, apartment 15-C. There’s been an accident, Nina screamed frantically.

Ma’am, can you calm down enough to tell me, what’s the matter?

Nina hesitated. I accidentally… stabbed my boyfriend. She looked over at Jamaal who was looking down at Eddie, dazed and stricken with a paralyzing fear.

Ma’am. Where’s the stab wound?

It’s in his chest…. The knife is in his chest and he’s bleeding to death…. It was a… accident, Nina reiterated sadly.

Do you know if he’s still breathing? The operator spoke, calm, poised, and, very professionally.

I don’t know.

Okay Ma’am, I’m dispatching a unit over there right now. So if you can stand by your building they will be there in less than two minutes.

Nina hung the phone up and grabbed a stylish robe that hid her slim, womanly figure. She quickly looked in the dresser mirror, running her fingers over the swollen configuration over her eye, removing a silk cap from her head and smoothing down her blond hair as she did so. She then walked around Eddie, not knowing if he was dead or alive, and too afraid to check. She pushed Jamaal towards his room and went into the kitchen and laced a dish towel with ice, and within seconds the distant whir of sirens began blaring. Nina walked to the front door and pulled it open to flashing lights entering into an already crowded parking lot that quickly became overrun with police and emergency vehicles, followed by a stream of noisy neighbors.

Over here, Nina cried out, waving her arm.

The medic’s already had a bead on her and her unit as they raced from their vehicles to the apartment door, carrying a large blue first-aid kit and stretcher. They stormed in, following Nina to the bedroom, sliding to their knees like New York Yankee outfielders. One of the medics placed his fingers on Eddie’s carotid artery and held it there, creating