Just another day

Just another day on deaths row, i wake up to the sounds of the thrashing of the locks. The noise forces my tired eyes to open, i still havent slept, worry overtakes my need of sleep, I feel that same feeling overtake my tired body.

The smell of freshly cut grass fills my senses, waking me slightly. I hear the thrashing of the locks on my door, i push off the thin white sheet that's covering my pale body, i grab the dirty prison clothes off the floor and pull them over me. I hate the clothes, they feel uncomftable on my skin, A bulky looking guard walks through the cell doors, he grunts and pushes a plate of food which looks like someones vomit. I give a very fake smile and place the discusting food down the toilet.

I feel so stupid for murdering him, he just made me so angry, i mean cheating on me.. i wouldnt have murdered him for, but with my sister?! I just couldnt control my actions.. it wasnt excatly the perfect crime, everything went pear-shaped.

I shook the thoughts from my head and begin to talk to myself as i push open the cell door, prisoners dressed in orange jumpsuits appear from the titchy cells, the guy next to me nods, i nod back and smile, his blonde hair is matted and his blue eyes red and tired looking, the person next to me is a girl, her brown was once full looking with beautiful silk like ringlets, now its dull and curly, her green eyes look pain-filled and angry.

I walk to the sheds in the courtyard, i grab a rake and walk outside to begin my 5 or 6 hours of various hard work, the people from deaths row arent allowed to mix with the other prisoners. its not like we're dangerous.. well some are, like Lisa, or 'prisoner 11565' shes a tall woman with ginger poker straight hair, her eyes are a swap green colour, shes the ugliest prisoner on deaths row and also the strongest, she seems to have something against me, i manage to earn a beating for in her exact words 'talking funny'.

Im half irish and i have an accent so what? she obviously doesnt like again in her words 'Filthy halfbreeds' I have to admit every time she says it, she manages to knock of another milimetre of my confidence and shes said it plenty of times, they'res no doubt about that.

Oh no, Lisa walks up to me, her fist clenched and her face set. Her dirty ginger hair dancing across her ugly face, She begins to shout things out like "Filthy half breed" "Irish fucker" she brings her fist into my face, knocking me to the ground, my face tingles, i know i'll be getting a bruise tomorrow, she then kicks me hard in the side, i feel my rib crack and then break after another forcefull kick, i curl into a ball on the muddy ground, they're isnt any use fighting back; it only makes her madder.

The beating carries on for a few minutes until one of the male prisoners pulled her away, ever-so-gently grabs my hand and pulls me to my feet, fresh tears leak out of my still tired eyes. He smiles so warmly i feel as-if im not hurting all over and im not nearing my last week alive. I smile back and introduce myself, he tells me his name is Ben, a guard shouts to Ben to get back to work and for me to go to the infirmary. I bade him farewell and walk up to the infirmary.

Its just another day in deaths row.