The Sentence

Why did I do it? Why did I take the risk? I've served seven years of a ten year sentence. I only had three to go. Why did I try and escape? Everyone keeps asking the questions. I even keep asking the questions.

Maybe it's because I don't belong here. Maybe it's because I didn't do anything wrong. Maybe that's why. Maybe it's because I sat in a cell, doing hard time day in and day out for the past seven years, being punished for something I didn't even do. Maybe that's why I did it. Maybe that's why I took the risk.

You see, Leigh, he's the one that should be in here. He's the one that should be doing the shit jobs, eating the shit food, sleeping on the shit cot every night. You see Leigh's the one that done wrong. You see Leigh's the dealer, the racketeer, the criminal. Not sure if you see that or not. What you do see, is you see Leigh in his new Lamborghini, partying it up with the guys, a hot broad on each arm.

I did my best to block it all out of my head. Tell myself as unfair as it is, that I was doing the wrap for what he did, and that's just the way it is. I even convinced myself that it wasn't all that bad. At least they still let me have my books, my paper and my pen. They still let me lift weights every day too. Now I don't even get that.

That con Glen. That son of a bitch. He let me taste freedom. If only from his description, I couldn't help myself. He reminded me of what freedom was. What freedom looked like. I knew we could get caught. I knew that it could happen. Woody and Penny knew too. And how could we have been so stupid? We smelled Glen for the Rat he was from the beginning, but I suppose we all wanted freedom so bad that we ignored the 99% chance that he was going to screw us and latched on to the 1% that his plan might work.

We got out, just like he said we would. Then we took one car and he took another.

"Turn left at McGillis."

It was always the plan. Turn left at McGillis, follow the old stump road to the clearing and we'd head south on the river.

We turned left at McGillis all right. We turned left and Glen turned right. Right into freedom as the three of us met a brigade of  cops.

Now I sit in pitch dark, solitary confinement. No books, no paper, no pen. Joey, the guard says that it'll be at least another three months before I'm allowed back into the yard to lift weights.

I had three years left. Three years. Now, I don't know much longer.

Reid lets us all know as often as he can, that there is a way out. All we gotta do is be a part of one of his experiments for one year and then we're free. Not only are we free, but we get outta here with a lump of dough and if we want job placement.  Sounds good don't it? Like you ain't got nothing to lose?

Yeah, Reid will say that. He'll talk all about the two guys who went through the experiment, came out and are now doing great.

"Erased two years off his sentence!" He'll brag. "The other four!"

Yeah, Reid likes to mention those two. It's the other eight out of ten this past year that he doesn't say much about. The four who died in his experiment. The two who got of out of the pen and are now living the rest of their lives in the loony bin up in Valley Pleasant. The one who's now free, as much as a paraplegic can be free. The one, well no one knows what happened to him.

If I knew that Reid's experiment would kill me, I'd go ahead and do it. I don't fear death. Death is no enemy of mine. Yet to know that life might get worse than this? No, I didn't do nothing for it to be as bad as it is. I don't deserve this. I sure as Hell ain't gonna except worse.

"It's your own damn fault you're still here." Reid can keep on preaching. "You'd be out in a year, if you'd only have the courage to endure one of my experiments."

Leigh's living the high life. Glen's on the run. The list of people who want to kill him is long, but not as long as the list of people who'd rather see him alive and to suffer. That piece of shit isn't good enough for death. He doesn't deserve that peace.

But I do. At this point all I want back is my books, my paper and my pen. To be allowed in the yard to lift weights again. I want more. I deserve better. Maybe I'm not owed a damn thing, but if that is the case, I wasn't owed the shitty hand I was dealt. I did nothing to deserve to be here.  Yet here I sit, in solitary confinement. Pitch dark blackness, I don't know anymore if you are my enemy or my friend.

Light, I've been asking for you to shine upon me for so long and yet you refuse. Not sure if I want you anymore or not. I plead, I pray, I beg....and yet things only get darker.

I'm going to sleep now. I'm sure I'll wake. Not sure I'll want to but I know I will wake. Not sure life if I want you to end or if what I really want you to finally do is begin. I doubt you'll do either. I won't die nor will I escape.