A PRAYER TO GOD.

                                                   A PRAYER TO GOD.

          Could he hear her thoughts? For she had sinned. The stench and the screams early hours

  of the morning, did she deserve this? For years she had let Duke dictate and bully her. Telling the

 willowy kid in the diner that she could not cook gruel. “Only my joke darling.” He had said, as usual

 like many times over the years, she had made excuses for him. The male menopause, watching as

 he stroked the young waitress’s hand, as she collected their order with the five- dollar tip. After

  Pamela Sue had smoked a cigarette, as Duke drove the waggon.” That won’t do you any good, look at the creases around your mouth, smoking that rubbish.” He had said.

        Recently they had inherited her family’s farm a few chicken coups. It wasn’t much compared to her brother Jacks peanut farm in Alabama. The family had felt sorry for her thinking that she may get her life together. It beat living in a trailer on some caravan-park Duke spent all the money he earned on liqueur and other women. Pamela Sue had no pride twenty years on he had worn her down. Pamela Sue did not look thirty- eight with a lisp and missing front teeth. Why did she sit and take his lip? None of his conquests had lasted. Pamela Sue was five two, to Duke’s six three in height. At sixteen Pamela Sue had worked selling veg at her father’s farm, Duke had singled her out. They were going places. She had believed him. Putting up with his ridicule over the years.

Climbing from the waggon she had followed him indoors. When Duke had bent down to pick up the television remote, Pamela Sue had jumped on his back with the bread knife squeezing his throat, he had tried to throw her off his back. Too late the blood had wheezed from his throat and mouth like thick dark red sauce. Plea bargaining had started people had come forward. Pamela Sue had sat in a corner of the shack that was her home, not able to believe what she had done.

 For days she had sat in her in her prison cell unable to talk, wash or feed herself. The doctors and psychiatrists, could not bring her out of herself imposed trance. The journals and tabloids went crazy was it a cry for insanity? A cold-blooded murderess? Her brother had offered to pay for her defence, what was the point? She would settle for state prosecution and the legal team they had suggested. Soon she would be away from it all. The narrow bunk, no rail for her clothes, her dark little room escorted to the toilet, by two guards a male and female was it all worth the effort of carrying on? It was all a charade to show justice. They say, the screams in the night belonged to her? The scratches to her arms and legs she felt as if she had lice maybe she did. Her hair hung lank and greasy unkept. How much longer? If she had been a dog, she would have been put down, it was cruel. The light shone through the barred-up window her denim trousers were too big she could put her two hands down the front of them. A grubby T-shirt, no long-sleeved shirt in case she tried to use it to throttle herself. Pamela Sue was sure that her family had sent better clothes if so, she never saw them. The excuse being she was in solitary till the court reached a decision.

What happened to free spirit? All her life she had read the bible and praised god. What had made her do the devils work? Was Derek Duke the devil that had come to tempt her all those years ago? Well, it was too late he was at rest ash and bone by now. Cis his sister still had a good word for him that was the hold up with the trial.

Maybe Cis thought she would have the shack and land to go with it?  Pamela Sue’s brother Jack would keep that door firmly bolted where that was concerned. Jack would be free from worry justice would be done? Pamela Sue got down to pray. In prayer there was, no silence screams from others waiting their time, she could still hear them. Was she bad, like those, child molesters who did wicked things behind closed doors? The pimps and prostitutes who said, they we’re keeping men happy? The perverts who did not ever get caught? So many questions without answers now her time was coming near.

The open prison wasn’t too bad where she went to first, people smiled and worked the crops early mornings, she had heard them coming and going. She was still kept separate from the others there. And there was the smell of carbolic soap she got to shower once a week. Sometimes more. She could not keep track any more. They had come one day and taken her to her final destination San Quinton. There would be no reprieve or retrial. The media had done its duty. The public had followed their view. Did her defence try hard enough on her behalf? There were so many to give a guilty verdict on that jury.

 Her past had been laid bare, owing for goods at many at local stores, encouraging her husband to go off with prostitutes. She had wanted to scream it wasn’t me? It was the work of the devil Satan; Duke had built up those debts to pay for the whores, on Thirty second Street. They we’re tightening the noose around her neck? So that she could not breathe she had fainted, before being taken down to await sentence. There had been a retrial. The defence had been gentler than before, talking calmly as if they were friends. A nice man, handsome and understanding or so Pamela Sue had thought. He had used his weapon regarding the inheritance did she want it all for herself? A man who had stood by her who she could not give children, who kept coming back, how hard she was, planning to do away with him? Blatant lies had Cis told the papers? Journalists all this malicious gossip? Well the door was firmly shut, there would be a lethal injection.

 Dear Jack he had kept trying right till the end. She would pray for his soul maybe god would be merciful in the next life? No, she must not blame him, she had fallen at the wayside into the arms of temptation and failed the test. There was a click of the key in the lock get it over quick? Each time they walked away, there was another dawn with the squeaking of rats, mice for company and another day.” Oh, let me go lord to be your worthy servant. I will sin no more.” She had said the same thing as a small child when she had been caught by the preacher taking Leanora’s ribbon from her hair in mass. Her parents had been called and she had been punished for being vain having to kneel on the floor and ask god’s forgiveness. All these memories come back, in no particular order. 

   Pamela Sue was being led along corridors by a team of six guards Why so many? For such a little woman? Had she anything to say? Would it really make any difference? She had Dukes blood on her hands. Pamela mounted the leather coach with the belts tied firmly in place, she had asked for the lord’s psalm to be read out.

she had sinned. The stench and the screams early hours

  of the morning, did she deserve this? For years she had let Duke dictate and bully her. Telling the

 willowy kid in the diner that she could not cook gruel. “Only my joke darling.” He had said, as usual

 like many times over the years, she had made excuses for him. The male menopause, watching as

 he stroked the young waitress’s hand, as she collected their order with the five- dollar tip. After

  Pamela Sue had smoked a cigarette, as Duke drove the waggon.” That won’t do you any good, look

 at the creases around your mouth, smoking that rubbish.” He had said.

        Recently they had inherited her family’s farm a few chicken coups. It wasn’t much compared to her brother Jacks peanut farm in Alabama. The family had felt sorry for her thinking that she may get her life together. It beat living in a trailer on some caravan-park Duke spent all the money he earned on liqueur and other women. Pamela Sue had no pride twenty years on he had worn her down. Pamela Sue did not look thirty- eight with a lisp and missing front teeth. Why did she sit and take his lip? None of his conquests had lasted. Pamela Sue was five two, to Duke’s six three in height. At sixteen Pamela Sue had worked selling veg at her father’s farm, Duke had singled her out. They were going places. She had believed him. Putting up with his ridicule over the years.

Climbing from the waggon she had followed him indoors. When Duke had bent down to pick up the television remote, Pamela Sue had jumped on his back with the bread knife squeezing his throat, he had tried to throw her off his back. Too late the blood had wheezed from his throat and mouth like thick dark red sauce. Plea bargaining had started people had come forward. Pamela Sue had sat in a corner of the shack that was her home, not able to believe what she had done.

 For days she had sat in her in her prison cell unable to talk, wash or feed herself. The doctors and psychiatrists, could not bring her out of herself imposed trance. The journals and tabloids went crazy was it a cry for insanity? A cold-blooded murderess? Her brother had offered to pay for her defence, what was the point? She would settle for state prosecution and the legal team they had suggested. Soon she would be away from it all. The narrow bunk, no rail for her clothes, her dark little room escorted to the toilet, by two guards a male and female was it all worth the effort of carrying on? It was all a charade to show justice. They say, the screams in the night belonged to her? The scratches to her arms and legs she felt as if she had lice maybe she did. Her hair hung lank and greasy unkept. How much longer? If she had been a dog, she would have been put down, it was cruel. The light shone through the barred-up window her denim trousers were too big she could put her two hands down the front of them. A grubby T-shirt, no long-sleeved shirt in case she tried to use it to throttle herself. Pamela Sue was sure that her family had sent better clothes if so, she never saw them. The excuse being she was in solitary till the court reached a decision.

What happened to free spirit? All her life she had read the bible and praised god. What had made her do the devils work? Was Derek Duke the devil that had come to tempt her all those years ago? Well, it was too late he was at rest ash and bone by now. Cis his sister still had a good word for him that was the hold up with the trial.

Maybe Cis thought she would have the shack and land to go with it?  Pamela Sue’s brother Jack would keep that door firmly bolted where that was concerned. Jack would be free from worry justice would be done? Pamela Sue got down to pray. In prayer there was, no silence screams from others waiting their time, she could still hear them. Was she bad, like those, child molesters who did wicked things behind closed doors? The pimps and prostitutes who said, they we’re keeping men happy? The perverts who did not ever get caught? So many questions without answers now her time was coming near.

The open prison wasn’t too bad where she went to first, people smiled and worked the crops early mornings, she had heard them coming and going. She was still kept separate from the others there. And there was the smell of carbolic soap she got to shower once a week. Sometimes more. She could not keep track any more. They had come one day and taken her to her final destination San Quinton. There would be no reprieve or retrial. The media had done its duty. The public had followed their view. Did her defence try hard enough on her behalf? There were so many to give a guilty verdict on that jury.

 Her past had been laid bare, owing for goods at many at local stores, encouraging her husband to go off with prostitutes. She had wanted to scream it wasn’t me? It was the work of the devil Satan; Duke had built up those debts to pay for the whores, on Thirty second Street. They we’re tightening the noose around her neck? So that she could not breathe she had fainted, before being taken down to await sentence. There had been a retrial. The defence had been gentler than before, talking calmly as if they were friends. A nice man, handsome and understanding or so Pamela Sue had thought. He had used his weapon regarding the inheritance did she want it all for herself? A man who had stood by her who she could not give children, who kept coming back, how hard she was, planning to do away with him? Blatant lies had Cis told the papers? Journalists all this malicious gossip? Well the door was firmly shut, there would be a lethal injection.

 Dear Jack he had kept trying right till the end. She would pray for his soul maybe god would be merciful in the next life? No, she must not blame him, she had fallen at the wayside into the arms of temptation and failed the test. There was a click of the key in the lock get it over quick? Each time they walked away, there was another dawn with the squeaking of rats, mice for company and another day.” Oh, let me go lord to be your worthy servant. I will sin no more.” She had said the same thing as a small child when she had been caught by the preacher taking Leanora’s ribbon from her hair in mass. Her parents had been called and she had been punished for being vain having to kneel on the floor and ask god’s forgiveness. All these memories come back, in no particular order. 

   Pamela Sue was being led along corridors by a team of six guards Why so many? For such a little woman? Had she anything to say? Would it really make any difference? She had Dukes blood on her hands. Pamela mounted the leather coach with the belts tied firmly in place, she had asked for the lord’s psalm to be read out.

      The lord is may shepherd

       I shall not wont.

       He maketh me lie down,

       In pastures green,

He leadth me beside the still waters.

He restoreth my soul.       

   Soon she would be at rest in pastures of green. Would she come back a better person? Was her story a lesson to be learnt? They had said the lord’s prayer at the end so the lords work had been done, the trees rustle, lakes shimmer, children play in natures beauty. While many cases of the people and the courts are dealt y,

with. Did Pamela Sue deserve such a sad ending to her life.? Man’s humanity why did Duke have such a quick death?

 Pamela Sue who was weak suffered in silence. Till she could take no more was she ignorant of her rights? Or just battle scared. So many unanswered questions maybe things will change if the death penalty was abolished. Did the lord think she had, suffered enough at the hands of Duke? Maybe one day soon these questions will be answered. Who knows? All her life she had been bullied always looking over her shoulder not knowing what to expect until one day all her feelings of resentment took over and stressed out, she finally hit out at the man who had held her captive most of her life with her self-esteem at breaking point she released her feelings.