Sins of the Son a serial by Cynthia Piramalli

For most media watchers, a murder in a convenience store robbery begins and (usually) ends with the gruesome news reports. But what happens from the perpetrator's point of view? This chilling story tells us.

The Convenience Store - Kirk Punton was bored. He sat behind the counter of the self serve petrol station, sighed and glanced at his watch. It was nearly three o’clock in the morning. Who on earth would want fuel at three o’clock in the morning, he thought miserably.

I was under the influence - Mark Kingsland’s voice could be heard all though Court Room Number 5, even though he was out in the holding room. His lawyer, Stephen Burrows, tried to quiet him, but Mark would not be placated.

Bloody hell - Remand centre or jail, it was all the same to Mark. As the gates shut with a loud clang behind him, he was locked away and that was it.

Lights out - Lights out, but it was never quiet here. From every cell in the remand block came the moans and fretful sleep talking that every new prisoner made in his sleep. These were the men still haunted by their crimes, young men not yet hardened by trial, justification or time. If anyone slept, it didn’t last long and it wasn’t restful. Every moment of sleep was tortured by dreams of what they had done.

Go for a guilty plea - Lights out, but it was never quiet here. From every cell in the remand block came the moans and fretful sleep talking that every new prisoner made in his sleep. These were the men still haunted by their crimes, young men not yet hardened by trial, justification or time. If anyone slept, it didn’t last long and it wasn’t restful. Every moment of sleep was tortured by dreams of what they had done.

I’m going to prison - Mark sat next to his lawyer in the court room, resplendent in his bottle-green remand centre tracksuit and feeling like he hadn’t slept in years, though it had only been a few months. The magistrate judge had only looked at him twice since the session had started, and Mark wondered why he bothered sitting in here at all if the judge was going to treat him like such a non entity.

Mark, this is David - Mark woke to an annoying, persistent tapping on his cell bars.

Men hit each other for no apparent reason - Mark sat on a worn bench in the exercise yard, squinting at the sun. He was meant to be walking around, doing weights, doing anything to keep himself moving in a large space for a while, but his whole body ached and he couldn’t lift himself up.

Mark was here for the rest of his life - Mark was punished like any other man already in prison is punished – thrown into solitary.

the courtroom - Mark arrived at the Magistrate’s Court in the remand centre wagon and taken straight to the holding room outside Court Number Two. He had been late in getting brought there, and the sentencing hearing was to start at any moment. Stephen Burrows flew into the holding room, relieved at last to see Mark had finally arrived.