Judicial Punishment Lottery
This story is inspired by the Judicial Punishment stories of authors such as 'Jdb12399' and 'writingsomethingnew' and I very much recommend their work.
Any similarities between this story and their material is entirely deliberate.
Cheers for the inspiration guys.
By the way, this is the longest story I have ever written. But if it's not too boring I might do a sequel if folks would like such a thing.
I very much appreciate feedback as I am new to writing and am looking for any guidance I can get.
All the best
Gortmundy
Judicial Punishment Lottery
Shona Strachan waited with trepidation for her name to be called and her punishment to begin.
She was a twenty-five-year-old nurse working at the Accident & Emergency Department at the local hospital and two weeks ago, after a nightshift from hell, she had fallen asleep behind the wheel of her car on the drive home, at which point the vehicle had crossed lanes and collided head-on with an oncoming SUV.
Both cars were totalled and everyone, including herself, sustained at least some kind of injury.
Her injuries, as well as the injuries to the driver and front-seat passenger of the SUV, were fairly minor, primarily bruising caused by the airbags that had probably saved them from anything more significant. However, a young child travelling as a rear seat passenger had suffered more extensive injuries, including whiplash, a broken wrist and a choking injury that would probably have been life-threatening had Shona not staggered from the wreck of her car and performed first-aid that dislodged the sweet that was stuck in the back of her throat.
Shona's relief when the young girl coughed up the malignant confectionary and started gasping in huge lungfulls of air was palpable, but she was still sickened by the thought of what could have happened and was sitting on the kerb, weeping openly when the Police arrived, and she was arrested.
Shona was taken to hospital in handcuffs, escorted by an armoured Police Constable where she was checked out by one of the early-shift nurses. Given the minor nature of her injuries, she was deemed fit to be kept in Police custody and released from hospital care.
In keeping with the new guidelines for streamlining court procedures and given her case involved serious personal injury, she was locked up to appear in court the next lawful day.
The Police holding facility was modern and clean, and the booking-in procedure fairly simple. She had no history of drug abuse or mental illness so other than bagging and cataloguing her phone, purse and other personal belongings, and asking a number of standard welfare questions she was simply given a routine pat-down search and escorted to a holding cell by one of the civilian wardens on duty. Her shoes were left outside her cell, and she was locked in and left to her own devices.
The cell was clean and consisted of a mattress placed on a low concrete shelf, a metal toilet and a combined water dispenser and sink that he been recessed into the wall.
It was warm enough, if not particularly comfortable, and the food was terrible, but it had been a loud, scary place with strange shouts, moans and cries heard from other adjacent cells. It smelled of bleach and antiseptic and the cameras in her cell afforded no privacy, even on the toilet, and she had blushed and wept with shame when she had to ask for toilet paper so she could use the loo.
The nurse at the facility and even the other staff had been quite kind, if distant. She had been given some paracetamol for pain and a cup of tea and they checked on her regularly. They even gave her a book, some trashy well-thumbed romance novel that had become her most prized possession given its magical ability to distract her mind if only a little.
The cells were timeless, always lit, with no way of telling the hour, or even what day it was. In the morning she spoke to a court-appointed solicitor but given her intention to plead guilty there was very little he could do but reassure her and try to present her character as positively as possible. He told her the Procurator Fiscal had shown leniency by only libelling a charge of causing injury by Careless Driving as opposed to the considerably more serious charge of Dangerous Driving.
She was escorted to the dock of the Sheriff Court in handcuffs by a hard-faced policewoman who appeared vigilant to her movements but otherwise ignored her.
Once the formalities of confirming her identity and reading out the charge were concluded the Sheriff stirred and at a gesture from the clerk she stood.
"Shona Strachan, you have heard the specifics of the charge, do you wish them repeated?"
"No sir," she whispered.
"I'm sorry Miss Strachan, I appreciate this must be quite daunting, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to speak up."
She took a breath and answered as firmly as she could, "No sir."
"Thank you."
The Sheriff looked at her over the rim of his spectacles, "I see you have entered a plea of guilty. Can you confirm that this is indeed the case?"
"Yes sir."
"Very well, please be seated."
Once she had resumed her seat the Sheriff gave a brief nod to the assortment of black-caped solicitors sitting at the large table in front of her. One of them stood, an attractive young woman in a dark grey business suit with a loose black cape worn over her shoulders. She was a brunette, with a figure that could turn heads at a bar or other event, but today she was all business.
"Sir, the circumstances are not in dispute and are agreed by both the Fiscals service and the defence. I can reiterate them in full if requested but otherwise the prosecution has nothing further to add."
"Thank you, Miss Jamieson, I've read the reports and I am familiar with the circumstances."
The woman nodded respectfully and resumed her seat.
"Would the defence care to add anything?"
"Sir, you will have seen the character reference and all other materials. I would however be remiss if I did not point out that at the time of the collision my client's first thought was the safety of the passengers in the other vehicle and despite having sustained some albeit minor injuries herself, she immediately went to check up on them and in doing so performed lifegiving aid on a young child that may quite possibly have preserved her life."
The Sheriff smiled, "Indeed, however, it is also the case that her life might not have been endangered in the first place save for your client's earlier actions."
Thinking of the small body in the car Shona began to cry.
"Madam Fiscal, would you care to offer any rebuttal?"
The pretty lawyer stood and steadfastly ignored the weeping woman, "No sir, as previously stated this is one of those rare cases where both the Fiscals Service and the defence are in agreement."
"Very well."
The Sheriff turned to her and at a curt gesture from the female cop next to her she stood to face him.
He cleared his throat, "Shona Strachan, you have pled guilty to a charge of careless driving, in contravention of Section 3, of the Road Traffic Act 1988, the circumstances being that you fell asleep, or lost concentration while driving, lost control of the vehicle you were travelling in whereby it crossed into the path of oncoming traffic causing a collision. As a result of that collision injury and damage were caused. Do you understand?"
Shona nodded, "Yes sir."
The Sheriff looked at her for a long moment, "Interestingly enough, despite appearing from custody I have already received a letter as to your good character from medical staff at the hospital where you work, and it would appear you are well thought of there."
Shona glanced at the public gallery where she recognised at least two of her fellow nurses trying to smile encouragingly.
The sheriff continued, "However, I'm afraid this document, while a credit to you, is unfortunately irrelevant as to the particulars of this case as no one has impugned your good character in the first place. Both the Procurator Fiscal, the defence, and I agree that this is likely an isolated incident and more a woeful lapse in judgement rather than an act of criminal intent or malicious stupidity. However, it cannot be ignored that your actions caused significant and potentially life-threatening injuries to a young child. Though the court does recognise your efforts and skill in dealing with those injuries at the scene."
The Sheriff plucked a page from the extensive file in front of him. "There is however one document I am willing to consider, and it is this one I have here in my hand. It was added to the case file by a Police witness who obtained statements from the passengers of the vehicle you struck. This is a letter from one Abigail Marshall, aged seven. I won't read it all out, but essentially it says that you are a 'very nice lady' and goes on to say, and I quote, 'When I do bad things, I sometimes get punished and made to sit on the naughty step and I do not like this. Please do not punish her too much or be mean to her.' There is, ahem, a crayon picture of you that goes with the letter."
Shona's shoulders were shaking by now as tears tripped down her face.
