A sharp chill of despair engulfs the four concrete walls containing me. My hostile past haunts me as I lie lifeless and numb on the cold cell floor. I hear the mumbles and hacking coughs from the other inmates as my garnet red blood ripples down my Icey soon to be corpse. The four concrete walls feel as if they are slowly closing in on me as i plunge the knife further into my tattoo riddled chest, I know that this is the only way to escape my life sentence i am facing because i can no longer deal with how my past mistakes have led to my present stay in hell.
My mistakes are to overwhelming to contemplate so I try to think about the cherished memories, but i am heckled by the uncanny laughs of the criminally insane. I try to picture images of my family, but all i see is familiar bodies with ambiguous faces. …show more content…
Reality has now hit me as I realise that I have devastated this life for my loved ones and I. Frustratedly, I clench the dust covered crack wanting my mistakes to release their claustrophobic grip.
The rusted dripping sink counts down the seconds to the end of my sentence as a symbol of how this place has gotten the better of me. The walls are becoming darker and darker with every struggled breath i take, and the floor is now covered in the red remains that will soon be the last memory of me. I can faintly hear the CO’s batons tapping against the stiff iron bars in which sounds like the cell next to me. But I am no longer worried about them interrupting my escape as i am engulfed in darkness and the drips from the sink is now the only faint sound i can
My mistakes are to overwhelming to contemplate so I try to think about the cherished memories, but i am heckled by the uncanny laughs of the criminally insane. I try to picture images of my family, but all i see is familiar bodies with ambiguous faces. …show more content…
Reality has now hit me as I realise that I have devastated this life for my loved ones and I. Frustratedly, I clench the dust covered crack wanting my mistakes to release their claustrophobic grip.
The rusted dripping sink counts down the seconds to the end of my sentence as a symbol of how this place has gotten the better of me. The walls are becoming darker and darker with every struggled breath i take, and the floor is now covered in the red remains that will soon be the last memory of me. I can faintly hear the CO’s batons tapping against the stiff iron bars in which sounds like the cell next to me. But I am no longer worried about them interrupting my escape as i am engulfed in darkness and the drips from the sink is now the only faint sound i can