So there I was. Running free. To where? To be honest, I didn’t know. All I did know is that the past was the past and I wasn’t going to let it intervene.
It all started back in ’85 when I was found guilty on charges of murder, I was sent down for life. Hell I‘d like to say I didn’t do it, but I can’t, I’m as guilty as a man can be.
I remember the night of the crime like it’s stored in some sort of filing cabinet in my brain, I took that knife and sliced that sad son of a bitch up until he looked like he had just walked through an abattoir, some people say I’m proud of what I did and to be honest I probably was until age takes its toll and all of a sudden you get sectioned under the 60+ part of the prison. That’s when I realised ‘an old fool like me can’t keep this up much longer’.
I remember when people used to apply for an early release, me and some of the guys used to line up outside and jeer at the rejects. I knew my position on the prison hierarchy would be demolished as soon as I even so much as stepped into that office. To make matters worse the prison only handled a few cases a month out of nearly a thousand so I had my work cut out, even to be considered.
3:30am, July 27th, 1999. Probably one of the happiest days of my life but at the same time one of the saddest. Since I was leaving. Yup, all 66 years 264 days and 3 hours of me. One thing you should’ve known about me however is I never followed rules. Takes a dumbass not to realise that when you’re in prison. I wasn’t leaving through the front gate with my 20-year-old leather suitcase in one hand and a pack of smokes in the other. Oh no, that was way too modest. I was leaving in what everybody else had left behind. I crawled just shy of a mile through foul smelling shit, in the prisons sewer system. You’re right. I did hate every moment of it but through the thick stench of my immediate surroundings I could smell something I hadn’t smelt for fourteen years. Freedom. On that chilly July morning I emerged, not exactly clean of sins or sanity but nether the less. A free man.
So there I was. Running free. To where? To be honest, I didn’t know. All I did know is that the past was the past and I wasn’t going to let it intervene.
This is a highly effective, 'Shawshank-esque' narrative which captures the mood of the music really well - although I think the music is asking you to focus more on the escape itself rather than the events leading up to it, don't you? Perhaps you could flash back briefly to other things every now and then but focus on the escape route itself, and your character's feelings as he makes his way to forbidden freedom.
ReplyDeleteI especially like the fluid, confident style in which you are writing here too - it sounds totally believable as the words of the character you have created. Well done.
Yes - the voice here is very convincing; you can really hear this character talking. I agree that the music lends itself to the landscape of escape - you set the scene perfectly, so I really wanted to see what the character was seeing after all those years in confinement. Does the character just feel immense relief, or does being without boundaries actually seem frightening? - it's the mark of good writing that the reader cares about the character's feelings - well done.
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