"I'm telling you I'm innocent!"
"Pipe down, you. You're not fooling anyone with that act, Mr. Drew."
"But, you have to believe me!" Said the man who was being dragged to solitary confinement.
"No funny buisness..." repeated the guard. He was opening the door. The man struggled more to escape.
"N-no! I can't go! I have a wife! And kids!"
"You did this to yourself, Mr. Drew." He said as he threw the scrawny man in the cell.
"B-but!"
"Nope." And closed the door. It was dark. There was no light. There was a small window on the door, but even that had a panel and thick, metal bars. He sat on the concrete floor of the concrete room, trying to come to his senses.
"Mr. Drew."
He turned around.
"Yeah, you. The warden allows all prisoners one notebook and pencil. You break it, you don't get another. Understood?"
"Please! You have to believe me! I'm not him! You've got the wrong person!"
"Should've known..." and closed the small window. He went over and picked up the pencil and notebook. He sat at the desk. The only other think in the room was his bed. The desk was a cement table and was a part of the wall. The chair was also unadjustable, and was also a part of the room. He sighed and began writing.
