Life

She walked into the 8 x 8 room and shuddered as the door slammed shut behind her.

This isn’t right. I don’t belong here.

She hugged the standard issue blanket and pillow a little closer to her. How did she get here? This was a dream, right? She was going to wake up and be with her sweet husband and baby girl again.

She took a deep breath to keep the tears from falling again. She had to be strong. Her father told her to be strong, to never let anyone see how scared she was. But she was scared. Oh, so scared.

The trial had been nothing but a blur. Her lawyer had said from the beginning that she didn’t have a chance, and never exerted more than a half-hearted effort. There was just too much evidence against her, and not enough people in her corner. And she, she was just baffled by the whole thing. How could anyone think she had killed him? He was her life, her everything. How could anyone think she was capable of such a thing? It just didn’t make sense. And the whole time, she kept thinking it was all just a bad dream. Her husband wasn’t really dead. Her daughter wasn’t really missing. She wasn’t really going to trial. She wasn’t really going to jail. But it was all true. It was really happening. Her whole life had been reduced to her new 8 by 8 room.

She closed her eyes and allowed the tears to fall. This was her life now.

For life.