Shelby's Things

1. 14
   Apr
   

   Taffy

   (A few others and I decided a few days ago to have a little competition in which we chose a word and had ten minutes to write about it. Like oneword.com but with more time. The word was “time”, so I wrote this. I decided to leave it unedited, because I like to look at it while it’s “raw”. Super-duper-dark, but ah well. I like to get into the minds of crazyfolk. Enjoy!)

   Oh, time, why do you betray me? Days in this prison melt together like butter, yet pass like warm taffy. Smooth yet slow. I may never know when one day may meld into the next (Why no windows? Why?), but that is no longer any matter as I have no appointments to attend in this next year. Only a date with the door out of here.

   Why did you let me in here? It was only one girl. Only one. And she was no good anyway. I’m no delinquent. No no no. Just another victim. Just like that girl. What was her name again? Oh, I forgot to ask before the deed was done. A shame. An utter shame. But we are so similar. She is trapped in- oh, who knows where she went, and I am trapped here, with only a box of crayons and a hard-bound notebook to keep me company.

   Naturally you must not think me to be too crafty, because I could turn these crayons and the binding of this notebook into things that you can’t even imagine. But I won’t. I am an honest boy (sometimes) and I intend to live out my sentence properly. And when I am out of here, oh, I will show the world this very document, written in pathetic purple crayon on tattered notebook sheets. And they will realize what pigs you are, locking up someone who was simply… bettering society. Then perhaps you will be stuffed in here, living in butter and taffy time. You’ll see.

   But for now, I will just tuck this under my pillow and smile at you as you pass by my cell.