[ WP ] Your dad goes to jail for a crime he did n't commit . You become a forensic scientist in the hopes of getting him out . While investigating the case you realize he did commit the crime

`` My father loved me till I was ten. It's hard to love someone from behind prison bars. It's hard to feel love when you're mother wo n't take you into a prison. It's hard to remember love when your dad's name is always followed by lies and insults. Murderer. Rapist. Pedophile. Guilty. And that really ruins you as a kid, messes with your head.'' Mark was n't really looking at the guard. He was staring off into the distance, speaking towards the window. 
 
 `` Is that the only reason you're in this business, to get your father out?'' The guard was looking straight at Mark, wondering about this kid, barely out of college. 
 
 `` That's the only reason you do anything related to the law, is n't it? You go in to protect the innocent.'' 
 
 The guard laughed for a second, `` I wish man, I wish.'' Mark was n't amused and just looked over at the door, waiting to be let through. 
 
 `` Well give me a second, I'll grab the evidence from the room, and then I'll show you the lab and you got a couple of hours to look it over before we got ta lock everything up.'' 
 
 `` That's alright, it should n't take too long.'' The man then left the room. 
 
 Mark looked out the window. He remembered how his own father had stared at him. He did n't look him in the eye. It was the first time he had saw him in sixteen years. His mom had n't let him ever visit when he was younger, she did n't want him going to visit dad the prisoner as a kid. When he was old enough to go on his own he was afraid, afraid of meeting the man who was accused of all those things. 
 
 His father had n't even been able to make eye contact, he just mumbled hello and then let him take some blood for the tests. Mark tried to make small talk but his father ignored him. It was ok though, this whole situation was awkward for both of them. Mark then took a sample of his hair and put everything back in his leather briefcase. He stood up and went to walk out. Mark looked at his father and said, `` I love you.'' 
 
 His father just nodded. As he walked out the door, Mark could hear him mumble, `` I'm sorry.'' 
 
 The guard came out of the room, holding the four bags of evidence that he had requested. Mark was then led to the lab. As they walked the guard said with a smile, `` Once you got the good news, just find me and we can stop the presses and all of that.'' 
 
 Mark smiled and said, `` I'll make sure I do.'' 
 
 The door opened to a few microscopes and other machines. The guard left and Mark quickly got to work. First, there were the few hair samples. Back in the day they essentially just looked to make sure that it matched color and thickness. Modern tech could work a bit better. He first looked under the microscope and saw that the forensic scientist at the time was right, the real rapist had the same color and thickness of hair. He set aside the two samples in a solution and then had them set up for analysis. They would be ready in an hour. 
 
 Then he looked at the fibers that were found. The attorneys had a field day with that because they matched the cotton fibers of his father's favorite jacket. He examined both closely. His hands started to tremble and the microscope shook a bit. The bastard also happened to be wearing cotton at the time. Okay, well the hair will be done in about 30 minutes and show his innocence. For now, the blood. 
 
 There were blood stains on the little girl's dress when they found her dead in the ditch. Half of the blood was determined to be hers, and the other blood type matched his father's blood. With twenty year old blood stains, there was n't much he could do, but he could at least double check the work from then. He worked slowly and methodically at this point. And the blood types did match. He looked down, wishing there would be some mistake that would have made it easier to prove his father's innocence. But there would be nothing to worry about after the hair sample. 
 
 He looked over, there would be only a few minutes left. Mark's hands started to shake again. He had waited the past ten years for this moment. He had finished high school for this. He had gone to college for this. He had endured years of shame and ridicule for this. He had stayed alive for this. His father had to be innocent, but not because he had to be free. The damage had already been done and Mark's family had already been destroyed. No, he had to be innocent for Mark. Because they could n't be right. They could n't be right. 
 
 Mark saw the screen light up and the results were ready. Mark had to know they were wrong, because otherwise he was the son of that guilty pedophile. He was the son of that child-murderer, that scum of the earth, that damned monster. 
 
 And so when the guard came at the end of the day, he found test tubes and beakers smashed, and Mark lying on the floor sobbing, wailing in pain and misery. 
 
 
 

