Original writing
As I hear the clock ticking, I am lying on my bed thinking about my surroundings. I look at the ceiling and see this dim light barely shinning and as I look at it I feel my life is about to end. The walls have a grey colour and as I touch them they send shivers up my spine with extreme coldness. The floor is as cold and as grey as the walls this hasn’t changed in 15 years. The same routine; the same grimy toilet the same hard bed that I call mine is all going to be given to another poor soul like me when I depart. The bars that separate the world and me have been the only thing I have touched for years hoping that one day they would disappear like clouds in the sky and I could be set free. There is a window high up in one of the walls were at a certain time and in a certain month I have a glimpse of the sun. 15 years has gone past and it seems yesterday when I walked into room 24A.
I have been in this cell for 15 years since I was sentenced to the death penalty. Since being convicted for the murder I committed since then there hasn’t been one day that I have wished it was only a nightmare. The reality is that I killed a child in a moment of madness. All the anger and pain of my miserable childhood and youth had precipitated that evil moment in my life, for which I am paying the price. As the time approaches my wishes have been granted, I have a good breakfast and I had been visited by the local priest and my keepers have been good to me. Although it appears to be a pleasant day I feel that the room is greyer and colder than ever. My head hurts I am so exhausted with thinking. I can not believe that I have another 30 minutes of life. I am going to die. What have I done I ask my self, Where has all my life gone? The only thing that gives me peace is clenching the photo of my son who I will never see again and praying to god for forgiveness.
