The conscience of a condemned man

4/4/2010

Dear Diary,

While I lie here in this harsh prison bed, with a mattress that refuses to compress under my weight, and a mind full of horrors, I am forced by some, supernatural entity to stay awake. My mind knows I’m to die, it understands why and my soul keeps my body in this state, to force a few extra hours of guilt-ridden suffering into my life, to truly enforce the punishment for my sins.

The most poignant image, despite the many I have killed in cold blood, is the one I killed by accident. The blood staining my windscreen as I took out the biker. He rode on his way to school, unaware of the drug dealing scumbag trying to evade the police coming up behind him. My eyes were glued to the mirror, watching, waiting. Now, they view my innermost thoughts, the mutilated corpse that lay there like a tossed out sack of flour. Even though that was one I didn't mean to do, It is still unforgivable. It alone still warrants my execution.

Now, that image changes in my head, to the cop I caught on twelfth street. A routine inspection of the building I was holed up in. He never meant to arrest me, he thought he was safe ‘till two bullets blew through the backs of his knees, then a crowbar took him out of consciousness. I’ve seen him since, you know, At his house. He has a wife, four kids and a loving little labrador. I remember his longing eyes watching from the window as his family left to walk that little dog, He stayed home, ashamed and alone, longing for one more walk with his best friend. You never think in the moment, when you're caught up in the flames of unfueled anger, what your actions shall lead too, but each leads to something, that I have learnt, in my years of devilish crimes, that I have learned.

My mind flashed through even more images, more than I can - or wish to - count. The stolen cars, from families left bankrupt to afford a new one. Forced to decide between a vehicle to get to work, or their savings to buy a meal for that night. Some take out loans they know they can't pay back, while others turn to loan sharks and loose teeth to others like me, who show no mercy or honour in an endless race for money, oblivious to outside implications. It is a horrific world from the eyes of a condemned man looking back, for I caused many horrors, and now I see that I had a larger effect on the world then I could ever dream of, as I play through possible chain reactions in my head. The boy dies when I hit him, his mother loses her will to live and becomes an emotionless statue, her eldest child then provides for the family, missing out on all those moments, those memories that will stick out in his mind until the moment of death, as mine have for me.

What's worse is in the dark streets when i transformed into a predator, seeing rivals from another gang, and stalking them down alleyways, meeting them with a knife at a dead end, or worse a splash of acid to end their joy and scar them for life in a sheer moment of excruciating agony. All those lives, ended or ruined. All that pain, all caused by one man's cruelness. All caused by me.

What If there were no criminals? No men or women whose mindsets were that of mine, whose actions were always pure and never sacrificed another's joy or happiness for their own personal gain. A world where no lies were told, no drugs were sold, and men set their hearts on love, not gold. That is a world I would truly give anything to live in. Perhaps in the future, it will. Perhaps once I’m gone.  I guess there’s one fewer to stop it from happening, although my actions likely have already spurred others to crime, such is the horrific way of things. The likes of my kind cause such selfishness, rooting all conflict from our desires, tearing up dreams in favour of an extra pound! Yet still, the thought occurs that if I had earnt more, maybe I could have afforded a faster car or a better plan, and then i could continue my evil ways. No. 

No No No!

I must be ridden from the world. I know I want to change, but change comes slow, and I’m impatient. I couldn't keep myself from the world for ten years while I learnt. It's simply not possible - the knowledge of what my actions have caused has led me to fear further effects on others innocent lives more than I fear death itself, for at least I know my death is justified, whereas their suffering is most certainly not.

Goodbye Diary, see you again in my next life…

4/4/2020

Dear Diary.

It has been exactly a decade since I last entered into my diary, however, the warden has finally returned the possession, seeing how well I have improved. I was wrong once more that fateful day a decade ago, certain my sentence would be that of death, but the judge held mercy in his heart, as I do now. After ten years of my twenty-year sentence, I have learnt my wrongs - if not righted them - and cannot wait until I’m released. Having spoken to my cellmate, I eagerly wish to work a normal job, even at minimum wage, it sounds so much easier than crime, such a simpler life, without the fear, the anger, the hate. 

I have learnt to dream of good once more, and I have learnt who I truly am once I had stripped away the scum and villainy I wore as protection from the outer world. Now, even behind bars, I am freer than I ever was.

Goodbye diary, I now sleep soundly every night, with the peace I have cleansed my poisoned heart.