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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. ...read more.


All of my hoping and pleading that I would encounter this wondrous man whose presence had plagued me so, must have had an effect because by total coincidence we met that night at a bar in the city. It was written in the stars- we were meant to be! I then had the perfect opportunity to carry out my wishes of the day by speaking to him. He was so charming, very unlike the stereotype of an ex-criminal and certainly not like the descriptions of the people who knew him prior to his conviction. "He is not what he makes out to be. I would not trust him as far as I could throw him", his mother even confessed. Despite a warning from a person who would know him so well, I ignored it and carried on loving and thinking about him at every second in the day. Nothing would change my opinion. Gradually, much to my happiness, we became even closer and I moved in with him to his flat. Though it was small, damp, riddled with dirt and grime with a pungent odour following our every move and situated in a relatively rough neighbourhood, it seemed the picture of beauty in my state of ecstatic joy. He told me he loved me more than anything in the world. Naively enough I believed him. Looking back now I realise it was just a game for him- to see how far I would go in order to please him. ...read more.


He had never loved me, just used me and left me when the plan went wrong. The next hours and days were a barrage of questions, for which I had no answers. When I was finally brought to this place it was with some relief that I was left alone. The noise of the cell door opening brought me back to present time. It was the Guard returning. This time he was not alone. A man not much older than myself was with him. "This is the Lawyer that has been appointed by the court," he sneered. "I'll be outside if you need me," dragging the cell door shut as he left us alone. The young man was indeed only two years older than me. He was just out of Law School and I was one of his first cases but his first where a long sentence could be handed down, I don't know why he told me. It did not exactly fill me with confidence. He seemed to have just as much fear as me. I told him my story, throughout which he spent nodding his head or writing in his large notebook. The meeting did not take long. The Lawyer did not want to stay long in the prison but get back to the clean air of freedom. The trail was to start tomorrow and would last for one day only. The Judges, I was told by the Lawyer before he left hastily, are very harsh in the city, particularly where robbery of money was concerned. I was again left alone with my thoughts, this time not of the past, but the future. What future? By Ruth Davies ...read more.

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