Welcome to Gaia! :: View User's Journal | Gaia Journals

How can I get out of this jail?

Pleading innocence got me no where. It's like he knows my thoughts better than my own brain does. I can hardly breath. I'm still looking for a way out. Dizzyness replaces the panic, and the urgency of all of this.

Just, sleep.

Sleep with him, and he'll get you out of this. Don't show your tears. You'll be quickly kicked out, and insulted. Isn't that what got my into this in the first place? I don't even care anymore. I just want a way out of this jail cell. He sees all the urgency through all of this. He wants me out too. He tells me how to get out, but it's like he's speaking Spanish again. His words don't make any sense, and have no meaning to me. When I speak back, he thinks I'm possessed.

He's going to try to save me from myself, right?

Or at least provide a knife for the nessessary escape. I have all the tools, but no idea how to use them. I doubt a knife would work. I'm too tightly bound in manacles of my own device. You'd figure, if I made them, I'd have half an idea how to get out of them.

I'll admit, I did partially.

I pleaded my innocence, then my guilt. Then, I thought I would be set free in a way. Never to return to this beautiful place or my friends. To just leave it all behind, and start over somehow no matter how much I would mourn. I told him this, and he offered the impossible. He offered me something I'd wanted for a long time, and I took it. It later proved to lend to my guilt. I confessed with a huge smile on my face.

Half the jury was in disbelief,
but understood that I had no real 'guilt' and moved on.
The other half of the jurt was angry, calling right then and there,
'Hang her now! She has had her death wish!'

I wasn't set free.

He was glad at this, and offered me again what I wanted. All I could ever do was accept. The sun outside my jail cell was wonderful, the place in town was simply divine except for the smoke, and his bed offered me a way out of jail, and a death sentence. I hate to say it at all, but it was a way out of this madness.

And now I look back.

I'm still in my jail cell. Everyday the hanging lurks forward, it creeps up on my every now and again. Panic rings through my body. What will they think of my when they see my body hanging there?

I know what they'll think.

Isn't that the girl who was...? Why is she there with...? Oh no...! She didn't! This has to be some sort of lie! She was so lovely! She was so...! How did she let this happen? She got tired of it all. She couldn't break out of jail. Slow suffering, or slower suffering with a chance of release? I choose the latter. I'm not going back to that jail cell.