“LIFE IN MY CELL”
Thick, dark grey clouds, blocking the only source of light that kept me safe, obscured the clear blue sky. Distant trees in the fields were bereft and sterile, a bitter reminder of my surroundings. Clothes were no protection against the relentless winds that punished my body with icy hands. Scratchy particles of dry leaves found and lay to waste the oasis of my eyes; advertising my vulnerability to those who took cruel interest. My appearance, like my thin prison uniform betrayed everything about me; my youth (many preferred young boys) and my weakness.
Voices jeered my name, rough hands tattooed with birds pointed and yet the yard lacked noise or movement. Still I felt it. Anger, frustration, aggression, lust directed through pairs of mean, dark caves.
Every night I dreaded going to my cell, the area I slept in makes my lungs feel tight and my soul dull. The four walls that enveloped me are so murky and monotonous like the thick dark grey clouds outside. There is no escaping this after the warden shuts that broad metal door on me, his face just as hard and cold. When I hear the sound of the door locking a feeling of fear rushes through my body, knowing that I am stuck in here all night in the dark with no light to save me. Light can hardly enter my room, a small window with thick metal bars going across it above my bed, letting no light enter only causing a dark shadow above my head. The four walls are so slender I can hear the other prisoners talking to themselves; I can never forget where I am.
