Creative Writing - As the prison doors slammed shut the horrific smell of unwashed bodies came over me, almost making me choke in disgust.

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Creative Writing

As the prison doors slammed shut the horrific smell of unwashed bodies came over me, almost making me choke in disgust. I was being cut off from the beautiful fresh air that I was born to live in. It was rather humid and I was finding it increasingly difficult to suck the oxygen into my body. The walls, the ceiling and the floor were all the same dull colour. My room was extremely dark; there were no windows, just a hole in the wall with black steel bars crossing it which let in absolutely no light. I had a table and a chair made up of compressed cardboard which was attached to the floor with long bent rusted nails. I could only take two large strides before I reached the other side of this foul-smelling cage. I could not even stand on my tiptoes or else my head would hit a centimetre of filth on the ceiling above.

My cell stank, my clothes stank, and the whole place stank. My clothes would only get washed once a month and I had a blanket on my bed that had not been washed since the day