Excerpt: The Chains of Freedom

The walls of the cell were etched with drawings that had accumulated over the years. Not just his, but those of the countless prisoners held here before him as well. Not all of them were favorable, some were of things he’d rather he’d not had to look at every day, but some were amazing works of art that he could see something new in every time he looked. And look he did, it was the only way to not go insane in the dank, dim, putrid stench, of the dungeon cell. Trey wasn’t even really sure if he was sane anymore. Maybe he was delusional; he could have imagined all the pictures. But, it didn’t really matter. Since he was never getting out of here anyway, it was better to be delusional with something to look at, than sane and bored out of his mind. He sighed, he had taken to that lately, prison was like that, he would take up the most annoying habits, drive himself insane (if he wasn’t already) and then quit because he couldn’t stand it anymore. It was a never ending circle, in the sense that, until he died, it would never end… it was a dreary outlook, which was why he looked at the pictures and didn’t do much thinking anymore; it all led back to his life sentence.