I don't belong here. I shouldn't be here. I know everyone says that, but for me, it's actually true.
People ask me what I'm in for, and I don't have an answer. I tell them I was framed, that I didn't kill him, I swear, and they laugh and say I'll tell them someday.
I lost everything in a grand total of two hours. First, I lost my Sam, then I lost my freedom. Soon, I think I'll lose my mind.
This is what happened. I woke up at 1:32 in the morning. I heard a glass break in the living room, and I felt something wet seeping through the sheets. it was raining, so I thought the window had come open. The latch is rusty, and it was bound to happen someday. The glass breaking didn't really concern me, as we have three cats, and things happen from time to time. I got out of bed after blindly closing the window that was, in fact, open, shivering lightly, and turned on the lights. When I turned back to the bed, I screamed, which prompted the neighbors to call the police.
Sam was there, covered, in blood. There was a knife still in his chest. I looked down and saw his blood on myself as well. I went and pulled the knife out, and just sat there numbly until the police broke down the door.
At 2:44 A.M., I had been arrested as a primary suspect for voluntary manslaughter. After a long argument with the police, in which they believed nothing I said, by 3:27 they had decided to keep me in jail until my trial could be held.
After a week, I had been convicted, and been sentenced to thirteen years in prison. When I tried to tell the guard I was innocent, he laughed.
He told me that I was the only person capable of committing the crime. Unless a murderous phantom or one of the cats killed Sam, it was me.
I mean, his blood was all over me, my fingerprints were on the knife, and all the doors and windows were locked from the inside.
When I told the other prisoners, they mocked me. Of course I killed him. Who else was it?
After all, they had all killed someone. They told me they understood, that I was just in shock or denial.
So, no, I don't belong here, in this place of murderers and thieves. I lost everything, and now I'm here, where no one believes me, for a crime I didn't commit, and if they don't start to listen to me, I might fit in just fine, and one of them might not quite meet the standards for being alive.
