*Dedicated to Chantel to make sure she lives*
22 July 1999
I must have fallen asleep while whittling away making a wooden duck.
I woke up to the sound of guards yelling for us to get up.
"Manson! G'up you worfless sack of grime!!!! C'mon, get on wiff it!"
That was my que to get up.
I've never liked this place, prison.
No one is very polite around here.
Not like my last place.
See, I got kicked out of there. More like thrown out and banished.
Maybe I'll tell you a bit about it.
See, apparently, when a man dies right in front of you, has a heartatack and plunges to the floor meanwhile cracking his head open by hitting it so hard, the right thing to do would be to call for a guard.
I wasn't really in a " do the right thing" mood that day.
Thats when the frenzy started. It comes over me so fast sometimes.
My vision goes black and I just go for it.
Mind you, by the time they found him, he wasn't much left.
This was all just 3 months earlier.
I was convicted and sent here for life, or at least as long as they can handle me.
They put me by myself.
Roomy.
I don't have to share the toilet with anyone or have to pretend I'm interested at all on what anyone's saying.
I have no free time though.
I'm too much of hazard.
Guess Charlie gets no friends this time around.
This'll be the 2nd time I've moved prisons.
It's a hobby really.
