It was all I knew.
When I was a little girl, I committed a crime.
I killed a man.
Day in and day out, I was sentenced to this cell. Darkness surrounds me, and the stale, dank air chokes me. I haven’t seen the sun in I don’t know how long. I’ve been down here too long to count if there was even a way to keep track.
Every day, never at the same time, a guard lowers a tray of food to me with my cell’s dumbwaiter. I use the term food loosely though. The tin cup of water and the small chewy bar of nutrients can hardly be called a meal. I’ve received thousands of these sustenance deliveries in my time incarcerated, and even after all this time, they have never grown on me.
My endless hours were spent...
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