Creative Writing On My Cell

1231 Words3 Pages

“Zzzzzzzzz,” the sound of the fluorescent light in my cell carries on, incessant and unforgiving. The noise has been the symphony of my life for the past week, my own personal Beethoven. I glance at the old Sony radio they let me have in this cell, 12:55 a.m. They are coming for me in five minutes. I stand up, throwing off the thin, rough blanket that served as my only warmth other than my uniform, and stretch, reveling in the temporary feeling of heat generated by my muscles. My room is about as bare as a prison cell is expected to be, a small, twin sized bed in the back right corner, facing the door, and a small metal writing desk opposite of my bed, with my radio, books, and my last meal perched upon it. The walls and ceiling of my room …show more content…

The room reminds me of my cell, same walls and linoleum floors, except this one has a one-sided window, and a stretcher in the middle. The stretcher is blue and has straps to hold down the head, waist, arms, and ankles. My deathbed. A court official stands there, along with two people dressed in scrubs and face masks. The court official is a young man, dressed in a tan suit and pants, a thin mustache growing on his upper lip, the indifference towards my life plain on his face. “Mr. Michael Anderson, we are here to carry out your execution ordered by the Judge Bill Harmon on 03/14/01 for the murder of Tara Simon. Do you have any final words?” I clear my throat and address the mirror behind which my audience resides “I am not going to waste my last words saying that I am innocent. Whether I am innocent or guilty, it makes no matter, nothing justifies the wrong that will be done today. We, as a society, have deemed that those who are unfit for society do not deserve a place in our civilization, and we exterminate them. We take them from their friends and family, just as they may have taken someone else from their friends and family, spreading more pain than resolution. All for what? Some kind of barbaric justice? An eye for an eye? A life for a life? Is mental illness not just behavior that is unfit for society? Can we justify the right to kill those who have committed crimes that innately diagnose them with mental illness? Those who, if sane, would have never made the choices they did? I ask not for forgiveness, I ask only for understanding. I am not asking that we put these people on the streets; I am asking that we let them live the rest of their lives in their cells, hoping that they understand their wrongdoings and, if not, take comfort in the fact that we did all we could. My final wish is that you

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