𝐇𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐫, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐆𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬.
Love is hope for the hopeless and sin for the saint. Love makes you do things you never intended to do, but it's distinct when you hold hands and promise to behold each oth...
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The Central Jail of India.
"This is to instruct bringing 'Convict #704' from Cell Block D to Room No. 13 immediately. I repeat, Convict #704 to Room 13 immediately."
Those are the words the superintendent announced through the paging speaker. I took the rug blanket off my face and adjusted myself into a sitting position on the ground of my cell bunker.
What time is it? Is it morning? The cell room is so dark that I can't even tell if it's morning, evening, or night. They don't even have any windows for me to assume. I slightly look down at my hand, which has already been left handcuffed since last night, as I further compare the difference between my two hands.
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My hand is different from any prisoner here.
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The prosthetic hand supports my right. My right is different from my left. I can feel with my left, but I am a machine on my right. Laughable, isn't it?
My focus shifted to the heavy footsteps of the guards coming close to my cell chamber. When the guards reached my cell, they opened the large caged gate.
"Get the fuck up," the first guard who entered the cell said.
"Hurry your ass; we don't have all the time saved just for you," the second one spoke.
