The life of a prisoner

Inmate 1999

That's who I am.

I am just another inmate among the many.

Nameless.

Faceless.

Just a number among the many.

I was there because of false charges.

I told myself I was a victim of circumstances.

Unlike the other inmates.

But they disagreed.

They humorously said, I belonged here.

Me?

Who is innocent?

Who never committed any offence?

How dare they decide that for me?

I didn't belong here.

It was a mistake.

I was forced to be here.

I was wronged.

"But everyone is here for a reason."

they said,

"You just have to live with it."

they said,

And live with it, I did.

In that prison, my feet were shackled with heavy weights all day long as if I was a heinous criminal.

"Stop making excuses."

they said,

"Nothing is holding you back."

they said,

But it did.

I can't move anymore.

I can't get up.

I spent my days dragging my feet rather than walking.

No matter how many days flashed by.

No matter how long I endured.

No matter how much I struggled.

It never got easier.

I just learned to live with it.

I pleaded my innocence to the guards.

They said if I was really innocent, I should have fought harder to leave.

Did they think I didn't try?

Did they think I wanted to be here?

Did they think I wanted to live in hardship?

To live my days aimlessly?

But maybe they were right.

Maybe I wouldn't be here if I fought harder.

If I fought to keep myself from being caged in this cell.

"It's never too late."

they said,

"You are just not trying hard enough."

they said,

Maybe they are right.

Maybe it's not too late.

Maybe I wasn't trying hard enough.

Maybe I had a chance to leave?

That lit a fire of hope in me.

But everytime I fought against my sealed fate, I was punished.

Pushed into solitary confinement.

Forced to listen to the voices in my head, whispering.

No matter how hard I tried.

I couldn't break free.

My voice drowned.

By the whispers in my head.

I can no longer speak against it.

Eventually,

All my emotions, previous passions disappeared in the air like a wisp of smoke.

Nothing I do could rekindle the fire back.

Where did they all go?

Where did they run too?

Why did they leave me?

I've become a shell of my former self.

Like all inmates here,

It was easy to get in but harder to leave.

There was no hope for me anymore.

I didn't know why I was breathing.

What am I fighting for?

Why doesn't anyone believe me?

I was there for a false charge.

But if I'm going to be here, I might as well turn this fictitious situation into reality.

So I would no longer live feeling like a victim.

I suddenly had a thirst for blood.

No matter where I am, I wanted to kill.

Like an animal who knew no boundaries.

I wanted to gnaw my teeth to some skin.

To see blood drip.

To find my prey.

And find I did.

A target that was worth killing.

I followed them.

I studied them.

I monitored them.

And every little action they did.

I came to the conclusion.

They are worthless.

A burden.

An exhausting existence.

If gone, nobody would miss.

The guards noticed the changes in me.

"Why are you like this?"

they said,

"Have you finally lost your mind?"

they said.

Maybe I did?

Who wouldn't?

That's the only way to be sane here.

The guards hated the change in me.

But the inmates thought I fit well because slowly, I'm becoming like them.

The people I claimed to hate.

I realized what they felt wasn't any different from mine.

I belong here.

Among them.

My case may be different.

But our feelings weren't.

Life in prison ruined them.

And it ruined me too.

Now, it was too late.

It's too late for me to be saved.

I can't get out.

I want someone to get me out of here.

Someone to save me from what I've become.

I can't get out with my desire anymore.

I needed a helping hand.

But no hand reached me.

I'm stuck.

I'm stuck.

In a prison called depression.

Inmate 1999

That's who I was.

I was just another inmate among the many.

Nameless.

Faceless.

I was no longer human.

Just a number among the many.

I was there because of a false charge.

But in the end, I murdered someone.

I murdered Inmate 1999.

A target that was worthless.

A burden.

An exhausting existence.

If gone, nobody would miss.