Writing to entertain.

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GCSE English.

Writing to entertain 07/10/02.

The awakening light of dawn flickered like a candle through the bars of my cell.  I sighed, a mixture of tiredness, cold and fear.  Last night had been long and I had not slept.  That was not unusual these days.  Through the night, like the many before, I had been stumbling through my thoughts and feelings.  Back and fore, like a rocking chair, trying desperately to make sense of my situation.

A sudden sound, thunderous to my ears, jolted me out of my thoughts.  It was the Guard on his morning rounds.  “ So how are we today Prisoner 122?” his voice came through the cell door, dripping with sarcasm.

I looked up from my place on that hard damp mattress and tried to focus.  His small pig – like eyes were nearly all I could make out from the deep woods like gloom of the cell.  I knew I should not waste the little energy that I had, but there was no denying, I had come to hate this individual intensely.  

“I will call again at dusk” he grunted, sliding back the heavy flap. I was once again alone with my thoughts.  Clutching the thin coarse prison blanket to my body, hoping that it and the daylight hours would bring me some warmth.  

I had lost count of how long I been confined in solitary to this cell.  Days, weeks, months.  It did not seem to matter anymore or make any sense.

The cell was about 2 metres by 2 metres. It was furnished with only the mattress and a metal bucket for my waste slops. The walls were of grey stone, scratched with the initials of the previous inmates.  Strangely, when I read these marks, it seemed that there was a whispering down the years of their existence in this awful place.  The bars on the windows stopped most of the daylight so it came through in slats. For most of the time there was a silence, an eerie, churchyard at night time like silence.

I closed my eyes. The memories came cascading down the years like a waterfall

on a fast flowing river.  Thoughts of my childhood gave off the warmth of the firelight of a log fire on a cold winters night.

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A girl appeared before my closed eyes. She was a fresh faced eighteen year old, naïve and inexperienced, easily led by others. Me. I had just left school with a clutch of good grades under my wing. Working hard had paid off and I gained a place at university to study Law and Psychology. Like most students I took a gap year keen to have a taste of life before settling down and working hard

Everything was falling into place. I left my small hometown to go to live in the city. Like a moth drawn to a light, I ...

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