a young girl's experience in prison |
I remember my first day in prison extremely well. Every single detail from the dark eerie look of everything, to the smell of Lemon Pine Sol is glued to my mind. When the guard pulled me out of the police car, holding onto my cuffed hands, I knew I had breathed in my last breath of freedom before stepping into the dimly lit hallways. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion as I approached the rusty gate. The guard gave me a questioning glance, but all I could do was force a weak smile as he handed me the bright orange pants and matching tee shirt. The guard holding my cuffed hands jerked me through the doorway and yelled something at the other guard. A door to a jail cell opened and the guard unlocked my handcuffs and pushed me into it. A big guy with a shaved head and a goatee scoffed at me from the next cell. “Change into your clothes!” yelled the guard. I shyly changed into the new clothes, feeling all the males’ eyes on my “fresh” body. I sat down on my stiff cot and began to cry. I cried until I realized that everyone was staring at me, then I wiped at my eyes with the back of my hand and straightened up my back. There’s no use in crying over this stupid situation! I got myself into this mess, and now I’ll have to deal with it for twenty years! I glanced around my small jail cell. I had a small cot, a toilet and a sink. That was it! Nothing like my luxurious water bed, bright blue walls, and private bathroom at home. I missed everything. I missed my stuffed animals that sat on my shelf beside my bed, my Mom, my Dad, and even my twin sister, the one that had gotten me into this whole mess. Well, it actually was my own fault. If only I would learn to keep my mouth shut. I remember the way my twin sister Katie had ran into our shared basement suit in our family’s Victorian style house. She was shaking and I could tell she had been crying. Her soft blonde hair, the same sun kissed blonde as mine, was a matted mess, and her deep blue eyes looked sunken and tired. I remember exactly every word that was said and the way her cold body had felt when I had held her close to me. “Kassie, I’ve done something terribly wrong, and I think I’m going to get in major trouble for it!” “What is it Katie? Tell me.” I had said. “Well, Zachary and I were only joking around. I never meant to do it!” Katie began to cry again. “What did you do Katie?” I waited patiently for a response, “Katie you can trust me! I’ll help make it better!” “I killed Zachary…we were playing with his gun…just fooling around…I by mistake shot him…I didn’t mean to! Kassie, Zachary is dead!” Katie fell to the floor in exhaustion. “I’ll handle it! Don’t worry!” I said. A loud, hard knock on the door interrupted our conversation. “Go sit in the bathroom!” Katie ran into the bathroom, and I opened the door, only to find two police officers, one male, and one female staring back at me. “Eighteen year old Zachary Burmham was murdered tonight…a witness saw a blonde haired girl run away from the scene and come running into this house!” the male police officer said as he looked around our suit. His eyes then rested on me, unable to believe that the girl in front of him had committed murder. “It was me. I killed Zachary Burmham!” I couldn’t believe what had just come out of my mouth! I, Kassie McLoud had just confessed to a murder that my twin sister had committed. After that, everything went by in a blur. The handcuffs were placed too tightly around my wrists and my rights were read. The next day I went to court and confessed to the murder. I told the judge that I had killed Zachary because I had heard he was going to break up with my sister. I confessed to everything with my sister just sitting on the bench, watching me. To this day, I still don’t know why I did it. Maybe I thought it was the right thing to do, maybe I thought Katie would come to my rescue and tell the truth, or maybe it was because I had promised Katie I would handle it. Whatever my reason was, it didn’t matter. I was found guilty of murder and sentenced to twenty years in prison. I could read the hurt and shock on my parent’s face. Straight “A”, seventeen-year-old, perfect daughter Kassie was charged with murder instead of school drop out, bad girl, Katie! My days in prison went by slow at first, but once I began to lose track of time, everything quickened. Friends and family came to visit me, but never Katie. I felt it was the least I deserved, but I guess she was too afraid to see what kind of life she had condemned me to have. My mother often visited. I think that deep down inside, she could feel my innocence, but she never brought it up. She didn’t bring up lots of things, like Katie, or the murder. She told me stories about family dinners, birthdays, and the new daffodils growing in our garden. She would tell me that she loved me, and missed me, and then walk away, all the while, choking back tears. Now twelve years have passed since my first shocking day in prison. Today I have a meeting with the parole board. I have been on my best behavior since day one, in hopes of getting out of here early. Even if I do get out, I know nothing will ever be the same, and I know my sister will never make it up to me. But in the end, I’d do it all over again. Just because I love my sister, and I would never want her to have to go through what I did. I guess that’s just what makes me who I am, and I guess that’s what really drove me to confess to Zachary’s murder. |