|Captured Freedom part 3 (standard:drama, 617 words)|
|Author: AAAAAAAhhhhh check it out||Added: Jun 29 2005||Views/Reads: 1817/0||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Continuation of story from athor "Electra (which is me by the way I just forgot my password)."It's about a woman in prison who writes all this interesting stuff in her journal. Specific, huh? Just shut up and read it.|
This is no beginning. It shouldn't have started this way. My feelings come and go, like night and day. At once, I will be joyful that they have returned, but then I remind myself that none of these feelings are good ones. Then the feelings will flee, and I am relieved that they are gone. But I am numb, and I realize that any feeling, even if a bad one, would be better than none at all. I have witnessed a person alike to me in some way. I know not how yet, but I mean to find out. Something so good in all its scarcity cannot be pushed aside. I believe I must find this thing that binds us together- I must find my one mindred soul in this hellbound place. It brings me confusion, searching through this individual's soul. This gift I possess lets me see his soul, but it's empty. Although I know him not, his simple presence is a comfort to me in a comfortless place. To know that there is someone somehow like me here is my light in a dark world. It makes me feel as if some of the evil within me, if only even the smallest bit, has melted away. My discouragement was evident only a few moments ago, but as it seems life is no longer against me. I could find no similarity between his soul and mine until I viewed his film of condemnation, and this was only by accident. I snuck into the questioning room for an escape, an escape of any kind. To be alone without being watched. I have a certain essence that makes me unnoticeable to those who don't expect to see me. It has been perfected in the corners of this rancid place. They think he killed his wife. The movie showed water. It was lapping against her feet. She laughed like everything was right in the world, like nothing was weighing down her heart. I've never known that feelling. She splashed in the waves and stuck out her pink tongue playfully, always at ease. She had an elvin beauty, the kind not often seen but hauntingly entrancing once you get a glimpse of it. The camera is dropped in a frenzy as you hear him laugh and run to her to join in the foolish banter. Something happens then. Even before I heard the scream I felt the atmosphere change. It changed from playful to romantic, then there was something unreadable, like surprise. There was a dull thud before a sharp scream cut the air. Then all there was was a gurgling sound. I wondered what happened as I glanced frantically back and forth between the screen and the one who was watching it. All I found in his face was resolve, certainness. As I gazed at his face, there was a thud on the tape, someone had fallen. Her face, her bloody, horrified face lay still, staring into the camera. There was no noise from her husband. The tape kept rolling, showing only that soft elvin face in a wreckless mess. There was no more laughter. There was only godforsaken silence waiting to be permeated by police sirens. The recent murder hung in the air. I wanted to hate who did this to her, who deprived the world of her beauty, but I have made a vow not to hate those I do not know. The guard only looked at the screen with a hard stare that said he knows somewhere deep down in his body that he will find a way to comdemn the man who did this. He knows with an intuition. But I don't believe in intuitions... Tweet
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