Violent+Crimes-Diary

They brought me in here today through bars and hell. Those stupid guards think they’re better than me just because they have on their little uniform and are on the opposite side of that door. That door, that piece of metal is the only thing that is keeping me inside this place. This room is like a cage, made to keep animals; I’m not an animal. As soon as I got in here I looked around to see if there was anyway out, and there wasn’t. I’m in a concrete cage with only one way out, and that is death.
 * __DAY 1__**

Day after day I sat here and think about why I’m in here and what I done. That thought torments me, it rips me apart. That final look that deafening bang, and then finally that taste of blood and revenge. This cage isn’t much, the only thing that is in here is a bed, a toilet, and a sink. I figured out that they do treat you pretty well if you treat them well. You get shelter, food 3 times a day, and if you’re sick you can go down to medical. The guards come and get you and take you outside for rec. also.
 * __DAY 4__**

Same place and same smell all the time; nothing really changes around here. This place has had a distinct smell to it since day 1. A smell of sweat and body odor lingers in the air, but you start to get used to it. Time goes by really slow when you have nothing to do, but sit here and think about what you could have done different, but still that thought torments me. I want it to go away, but it won’t.
 * __DAY 17__**

Once you’re in a place like this for so long, you start to notice things. Things you wouldn’t normally notice, if you just walked into a place. Things like the constant clicking almost like a buzz that comes from the vents. Things like there are twelve lines on each wall, where the concrete is.
 * __DAY 23__**

I don’t think that I’m going to make it. That constant thought still torments me, both while asleep and awake. I read the poem //The Tell Tell Heart// when I was a kid, and my situation reminds me of that story so much. That thought is going to drive me either to insanity or death.
 * __DAY 27__**

I started working on my way out today. I started my cover on my bed into strips of fabric, and then after I had gotten enough I started weaving them together. After working for hours on my escape route I was finally finished, my rope was finished.
 * __DAY 34__**

I can’t stand it anymore; those last words are eating me from the inside out. “Please don’t kill me,” and “I’m sorry” were the only things that I could think about, but I had figured out a way to make the pain stop. I wrapped the rope that I had made through the vent in my room and then tied the rope in two knots. A guard that was patrolling the outside corridor realized what I was doing and started yelling for backup and beating on my door. I stood on my toilet and wrapped the rope around my neck. I closed my eyes and thought of all of the things that I had done in my life, and then again that terrorizing thought about the day that I killed that man came flooding back into my head. I felt that terrible feeling in my stomach again, that feeling of remorse and sorrow. Then I jumped and that thought disappeared. I’m free…
 * __DAY 35__**