~GRAY
There were a lot of things I disliked in life but one that stood out was the notion of someone being accused of something they hadn't done. I'd never thought something like that would happen to me but here I was standing in a courtroom and being judged by the many pair of eyes that looked at me with disdain. I wasn't a murderer, I hadn't even killed an insect in my whole f*cking life but I was being accused of second-degree murder, whatever that even meant.
The public defender assigned to me, a scrawny-looking man, whose name I couldn't recall, ended his lame last argument and sat down in his seat which was next to mine. I knew I was going to end up in jail, his weak points and the lack of witnesses and evidence on my side told me so. The Mayor, who had testified against me earlier turned to look at me and smirked. His presence alone irked me. The jury passed on a paper containing their final verdict to the Judge, who looked down at it through his glasses. The room became silent, and the dead girl's mother's sobs could no longer be heard as everyone waited for the words to fall out from the judge's lips. The words that would extinguish all hope of a better life for me.
"The accused, Gray Keller, is declared guilty of all charges and will be transferred to the Bedford Hills Correctional Facility for Women, where she will serve fifteen years sentence for instigating the attack at the Oaks Avenue park and for the murder of Haley Morrow."
The last part of the judge sentence hit me like a bulldozer. I placed my hand on my chest trying to make the pain I felt there subside but it was of no use. The world would forever see me as a murderer. My heart dropped into my stomach as the two police men standing near the door I'd come through earlier approached me, handcuffs in one's hand. I wanted to scream that it wasn't my fault but I knew no one would believe me. I'd dug this hole for myself. The people I'd once called my friends had deserted me and let me take the blame for their wrongdoings. The cold hearted billionaire had refused to help. There could have been a chance to save her life if he had.
To say I was scared was a huge understatement of how I felt as the handcuffs were placed on my hands. I was dragged out of the room to a waiting bus outside, in front of the building, which was crowded with reporters. Each of them shot their mics into my face and asked me questions, most of which were appropriate. The police officers had to push most of them before I finally made it to the bus, which took off as soon as I sat in it.
During the ride to where I would spend the next fifteen years of my life, I couldn't help but think that my life had crumpled in just five days. I closed my eyes to try to fall asleep but to no avail because the image of the dead girl's face would flash before my eyes whenever I did. It haunted me in my dreams and made me feel sick of myself because although I had not been the one to strike her with the stone, I had been the one to start everything.
*********
Two months later, I lay on my hard bed in a dark cell unable to sleep. My roommate's loud snores pierced through the air making it more difficult to keep my eyes closed for a maximum of five minutes.
I hadn't been able to have an hour of sleep ever since I stepped foot in this damn place partly because closing my eyes would mean I'd have to see the little girl's face again.
I had lost weight, and my white shirt and blue shorts hung loosely on my body whenever I stood up. There were dark circles under my eyes and my once chubby face had become so slim that one could see my cheekbones.
For two months I had been in this place, laying on this stiff bed, drinking soup that looked like vomit and interacting with criminals who had done inhumane things even though I was innocent. How fair was this world? Did justice even exist?
I remembered the day so clearly, the day of my trial. I couldn't forget the hatred and disgust present in Haley's mother's teary eyes as she looked at me. I had cried for the first night I'd spent here because of it It made me almost believe that I was truly the one who killed her child. Now two months later and I looked like shit.
Sun rays peeked through the tiny window in the room indicating that it was morning. A loud shrill noise echoed through the building before the door to the cell opened. I abruptly got up from the bed and bumped my head on the wood. I still wasn't used to it and always forgot that it was a bunk bed.
My roommate, Scorpion, that's what everyone called her, was still snoring and had her hand in her nose. I didn't understand why she did that.
"Hey wake up, the guards will be coming around soon." I shook her body but she refused to open her eyes. I heard the sounds of the guards climbing up the stairs and shaking her vigorously but she still wouldn't budge. I decided to play a prank on her.
"Everyone has already left for breakfast. If you don't go right now, there will be nothing left for you."
This got her attention because the next thing I knew she had gotten down from the bed and raced out of our cell before I could say I lied.
I shook my head and exited the cell. It was a rule here that one was to rush to the cafeteria whenever the alarm went off in the morning. Inmates who stayed in their cells were severely punished.
The cafeteria was packed as usual when I reached there. I joined the queue and stood in line for ten minutes before getting the vomit-looking soup. My stomach churned just from looking at the brown colored substance in my bowl.
I sat next to Scorpion at a table with three other people at it. I nodded my head at them and they also replied with a nod.
"Bitch you lied to me!" Scorpion said before raising her bowl to her mouth and swallowing the soup in a go.
"I'm sorry but if I did that so you wouldn't end up in trouble today. You should thank me for saving your ass."
"My ass doesn't need saving. I can look after myself just fine."
I turned to look at her. Scorpion was about fifty-five years old. She had curly brown hair with a little bit of grey hair in it. She looked nothing like her age because of her build. She was tall, way taller than me. Her arms and many other parts of her body were muscled. She told me she used to be a boxer and that the reason she was here was that she had killed an opponent during a match.
People feared her because of that. After spending twenty years here she still looked young and strong.
"I know you can. That's why I'm so lucky to have you as my roommate."
"Yeah yeah, now get your hands off me." She said before taking my bowl and eating my soup. I didn't stop her because I wasn't going to eat it anyway.
The first day I met her, I was extremely terrified because of where I was and how scary she looked. She looked cold and rude on the outside but she was kind on the inside. She'd asked me why I was there and I told her everything that happened. She listened to me and told me that she believed me leaving me shocked. Even my own lawyer didn't believe but someone who was a criminal did.
She told me she would protect me and that no one would ever touch me. It made me hope. Hope that I would one day get out of prison, still alive and with all my body parts intact.
For the next eight months, my life in prison was good. If I took out the disgusting soup we always drank then it was good and I couldn't ask for anything else. I got to read novels that Scorpion's police friends helped her sneak in. No one dared to pick a fight with me because I'd been marked untouchable.
Everything was good until it all took a downturn when I found Scorpion dead in her bed one morning with her hand stuck in her nose.