You Don't Know What They Do To Guys Like Me In Prison

This is it. Today’s the day… The day of my execution. The moldy smell of the moss-ridden stone that surrounds me brings some comfort; it’s a smell I’ve come to love over the month I’ve lived here. My gaze drifts upward as the large metal door screeches across the cold stone, revealing a guard. He yanks me up roughly, dragging my willing form to the execution chamber. As we walk I think back over these past few months. How did I get here? Well… It’s a long story.

Notes

I have 93% of this already written. I should be able to post fairly regularly.

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