Captured Freedom part 3 (standard:drama, 617 words)
Author: AAAAAAAhhhhh check it out	Added: Jun 29 2005	Views/Reads: 3337/0	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