As Jaz says

Dear Diary

My name is Jaz Kandel and yes, this is going to be a prison inmate's diary, at least it will start as one. Dr. Felix thinks that this writing process can help me with my therapy. (Now that I think about it, I don't know his first name. And, well, it never interested me. Because I can't take an interest in a goofy nerd. I'm not some street girl, I'm a woman with values and self-respect). 

Oh, well... I was sent to the scarecrow-looking psychologist as part of a government rehabilitation program designed to make people like me better citizens. At first, I was skeptical but things changed. 

Our meetings were held in a room with a lot of books. we set there and around us was a wooden library encompassing almost all sides of the small room. The only warming thing there was a white armchair. The one I used to sit on. There I found myself releasing a lot of frustration and shedding tears. I also remember there was always a box of Tissue and a pack of disposable cups standing upright on a green plastic table. But I've never seen bottles of water around there. The Doctor always made sure to keep a safe distance from me, as he sat in his black office chair. 

It took me a while to open up. At first, there were many meetings of silence, whole hours of mutual staring at the walls.  I used to count the books in the library to keep myself busy as sat there quietly. Only after five encounters, I broke down, in a fit of rage I almost hurt him. Despite the danger he faced at the time, he remained unconcerned. Thereafter the meetings continued differently, I was more open. In my opinion, only then did the therapy begin.

Only with the help of an open dialogue did Dr. Felix manage to peel off the other layers of my walls. Most of the time I just talked, shared stories about my childhood, discussed my choices and what seemed to lead me to be exiled from the rest of humanity. 

With his comments, he managed to make an impact on me. I can say that thanks to my efforts to improve my behavior, I have won his recommendation for the committee. And even though I don't know if you can say that the therapy sessions were successful. Because it's more difficult than any project I've undertaken. It's a work in progress.   

The committee was made up of a three-judge, all of them, old and tired people. In their experience, they have already seen thousands of criminals. The judges were not only satisfied with the recommendations they also asked me some questions. In my answers, I expressed remorse for my past crimes, told them about my desire to do a correction and to become another exemplary citizen. Luckily my twin brother Troy agreed to sponsor me. If they will release me, I would have to be under his care. Now I'm waiting ...