The next few days in the prison were monotonous and dull. Sleeping on the suspiciously colored mattress, having depressing-looking meals, and spending most of the day staring at the walls of the cell in a crouched position or listening to Serena's neverending bemoaning. With each passing day, I thought of how my trial was drawing closer and closer. My death looming just around the corner.
I was currently in my crouched position on the mattress with my head against my knees when I heard someone walking down the hallway of the prison cells. I was sure it wasn't a meal we'd just come from having lunch. The footsteps then came to a stop nearby and I heard a clanging sound of something hitting against the metal poles of my cell door.
I looked up from my knees and saw a prison guard holding up a metal baton that they had used to hit the cell poles. " You have a visitor," the guard told me.
