asataria

“Mum, Mum!” I tugged on her wet sleeve, looking up at her harassed face as she pulled me through the crowded street in the December drizzle. I started to drag my heels and tried to pull her back to gain a snippet of her attention but it didn’t work. She jerked me roughly by my wrist and without looking down snapped “Come on, Jamie, we haven’t got time!” “But I saw Santa!” I said again. “Of course you did, it is Christmas Eve, he’s everywhere” “No Mum, I saw the real Santa, with the reindeer and everything” “Don’t be daft Jay” I could see she didn’t wa

       It is the last day of my life. I am sat here for the last time in this small prison cell I have been forced to sleep in for five thousand three hundred and twenty one days. The grey metal bed frame is chipped and rusted; my scratchy grey standard issue blanket is folded on the foam mattress. I ponder, not for the first time, but now the last on the irony of the state making sure these cells are suicide proof. They require absolute control over the exact time and nature of my death. I cannot cheat them of justice with suicide. My life is not my own.  I hear footsteps, how many? Two, three set