As I parked the car, the high beams of the headlights shone a brown dumpster with blistered paint and rust, with water running down its sides. Raindrops smacked against the glass windows and drummed the roof. I pushed my hands against the steering wheel and hunched my shoulders. I waited patiently for a few seconds hoping that the rain would calm down and began to take a look at the sky, which was the colour of a dusty blackboard, which had not a single star in sight. I opened the car door and turned my collar up to my ears and began to make my way towards the house. I could feel the icy water trickling down my neck. The rain stung my face and coldly tapped the top of my head; it felt like a million small nails had been driven from heaven.
I had entered through the side passage way, which lead to the back door, but the back door was open. My first instincts told me that we had been burgled. I could hear screaming and shouting. The words echoed through my ears “No! I’m sorry”. I then heard Patrick’s voice “You deserve this!” My heart began to beat faster and faster. I stood terrified not moving a single bone in my entire body. I peered slowly through the corner of the door and there stood before me was my husband and my baby Johnny. Patrick held a large baseball bat. Without thinking twice I knew exactly what he had in mind. I tried to stop him but it was too late. Patrick was so hopped on drugs, that he didn’t know what he was doing.
I woke up. My head was pounding. It felt as if it was going to explode. I had blood dripping down the side. I felt weak in the bones. It took me a few attempts to stand up on my feet. I had no real sense of where I was, but I could see bloody footprints all over the room. To my right smeared handprints flashed on the wall. I slowly followed the footprints, which lead to the hallway. There was a drag mark feathered out several feet from where Johnny’s dead body lay. My mind and heart were racing, trying to outrun the cause of the scene but tears had instantly, filled my eyes. I propped Johnny’s body against the wall and kissed his forehead.
I was shivering and could not seem to catch my breath. I looked around, my eyes travelled slowly from the couch, across the floor and stopped at the TV. The couch’s cushions were still on the floor where I had left them. I moved to take a closer look and saw Patrick’s dead body. Patrick had been dead, just over twenty-two minutes. I could smell his sweat, his dirty bare feet, and the faint odour of singed flesh. My mother once said “Nothing can go wrong unless you are the cause,” Now I was the cause. It was me who had killed Patrick.
A loud knock came from the heavy metal door from my right side. The door opened, a female guard came and gave me my belongings. I didn’t have many valuable belongings, just a gold chain with a love heart shaped locket containing a picture of Johnny. I placed it securely round my neck. This was all I had left.
I took a deep breath and further examined the cell room that I had been given. The place had been vandalised and was full of graffiti that gave the cell a rather daunting atmosphere. The walls were cold and damp, which caused a slight chill. The air was frigid and stale. The paint on either side of the four walls had been half chipped due the engraved markings, which made the walls look darker. There was a tiny oval window placed on the top left hand corner but there was no sunlight to be seen. The window had been blocked with black heavy metal bars on either side of it, which prevented any light from entering the cell. I felt trapped in a room full of ponderous blackness, with dark shadows leaning over me. I hated every minute of it.
The only privacy I had was while I was in the cell room. I couldn’t use the toilet, blow my nose or smoke without the guards taking notes. They could check up on me day or night, when it most suited them. There is nothing remaining in this world for me. I have no future, nothing or no one to live or look forward to. I felt a dull, implacable sadness that I did no have the strength to chase away. Johnny’s death had left a tear in my soul. My shattered thoughts filled with fragmented images and distortions. I had suffered a great depth of emotional depression, I asked myself what for? Nevertheless the thought still remained. Why didn’t I kill myself when I had the chance? I had been imprisoned for life. I couldn’t survive living like this. I wasn’t capable of surviving. It was then when I had made my final decision. I had decided to end the despair of my life.
That night I hardly slept, inside I felt unsure, scared and nervous. I tried to read but my thoughts shifted like the clouds in the darkening sky beyond the oval window. Despair pressed against my heart. The day had drained me, as if a greedy dark force had sucked the light right out of my being. I lay still on my bed staring at my dirty bare feet and the white toilet missing its seat. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.
The following morning, I was confused I couldn’t think straight, I knew exactly what I wanted to do, but I couldn’t quite drag the courage. I could hear my mother’s words “You’ll survive”. I had decided to take a walk to the ladies bathroom; it was then that I could feel the beating of my heart. I began to take smaller steps and slowly walked towards the bathroom door. I opened the door. There it was, the stool placed in the corner of the room facing the mirror. My heart began to beat faster and faster. I knew I could do it. I stared at the stool for a few moments and pulled out a pair of tights that I had slipped in the arm of my blouse. I then climbed up on to stool and stood silently, I panicked, but I had to stay calm, as no one was to know about this. I finally forced myself to tie the pair of tights on the hanging light bulb above my forehead and tie it securely and tightly around my neck. This was the moment I had been waiting for. I tippled my feet and kicked the stool. I was hanging almost two metres above the ground. I could feel the pain travelling through my body; it was then I could see the colour of my hands change. The door opened and my eyes finally closed.
