The prisoner

[han lin]

my story about a prisoner. this is the forst "chapter" written on a rainy holiday in cornwall brilliant!

The clock was piercingly loud, each tick catching in the air like thunder, each tock darker and more claustrophobic than the last.
Tick
Tock
Tick
Tock
Words took too the rhythm in my mind and filled the aching absence of thought.
Guil-ty
Guil-ty
Guil-ty
My name was called, my place to stand and still my senses were deadened. The tuneless symphony continued behind my eyes.
Guil-ty
Guil-ty

“The court have found you”

Guil-ty
Guil-ty

“Guilty”

The pain I felt regaining my senses was like being wrapped in barbed wire.

The sky through the windows, the barb in my eye, the sound of crying, the barb in my ear, the despair of my grandmother, the barbs around my lungs and heart. Each breath hurt, each moment of attempted communication broke through me in shuddering sobs, my tears salting my wounds.

I wanted to take everything in, experience as much reality as I could before I was led back downstairs. Feeling the gentle fingers of the guards easing me towards the door, I leant forwards to take in the bordered sky. It was then that I saw her, framed against the window; I reached my mind out to her to turn around, to know that I’d seen her but she was gone.

The gentle fingers turned vicelike, squeezing my arms and forcing my head into the dock. The smell of polish stung my face and I looked into the eyes of my jailor, searching for some kind of connection. The look he gave me will never leave me. He was the first, he punctured my soul with that blunt expression his eyes snarling murderer.

There was a definite change in the air as we went down the stairs, not just the temperature, but the closeness. The further down we got, the more like hot breath it became, panting on my neck.

“IN, SIT”

In those few steps and with one word, I had gone from man to animal. To these people I no longer had a name; I was a number, a statistic, another stain on society that it was their job to hide.

I bent my head and obeyed, stepping over the threshold and lowering myself onto the bunk. The door was slammed shut with a racketing clunk and suddenly I was alone.

The silence was hurting my ears and I could move nothing but my eyes.

At first I looked quickly, darting my gaze as if following the flight of a nonexistent bluebottle. No. Stop. I closed my eyes and sat in darkness. The shadows soon came and the pressure of fear behind my eyelids forced them open.

I began a systematic search of the cage, looking for any possible weak point I could exploit, but knowing I couldn’t run anymore.

My gaze ran over the greasy sink and dropped to the floor. Stains of lives long lived were tattooed into the concrete telling lies of innocence and screaming for help.

The toilet was a dark hole, an escape, somewhere for the waste of the waste, the filth of the damned.

I felt a tightening around my stomach like a fist closing finger by finger, strangling my insides. I really was alone.

[han lin]

chapter 2
It was so hot in that place, so oppressive. I couldn’t understand anything anyone said or any of the threads that had tightened to bring him there.

The seat was hard, and my shoulders had surrendered to the pain I was trying to ignore

I was near the back of the public gallery, surrounded by strangers with no faces. They all stared at him with some kind of morbid curiosity, building up mental images to store and take away with them to relate to twittering friends.

I was staring at him too. I could see his green eyes, still and lifeless. But I knew they weren’t. I thought of all the times I’d looked through the emptiness and seen his soul, the clipped wings of an angel.

A small drop of sweat was falling down his temple and onto his cheek; licking my lips I tasted my own sweat, salty and sweet.

I willed him to look at me I wanted to envelop him in my gaze, to comfort and warm him.

Rise for the verdict.

My heartbeat ran away and all I could look at were his hands, so gentle, clasped together in a mockery of prayer.

The most violent word I’ve ever felt is guilty. It ripped through my heart like a bullet, causing my breath to catch in my throat and a single tear to escape my eye.

The small choked intake of breath attracted the attention of the faceless strangers. I was their new focus.

Of all the eyes in the courtroom I wanted his to be on me. Please look at me I silently pleaded with him as I watched him crumble, his hands slipping apart, tears drowning his face.

I had to leave. I couldn’t stand to be in there a moment longer. I felt sick and faint.

I dragged myself to the door knowing he hadn’t known I’d been there. He hadn’t seen me; He’d thought he was alone.

[Meg Boyd]

first of all, i love the dramatic imagery of the court room setting and the emotions pouring forth...

second of all, its nice to see you back Han Lin!

[han lin]

“They’re sending a van down for you Mr Parsons”

The uncomfortable voice was coming from Lloyd James, my barrister. He was standing outside my holding pen, shifting his substantial weight from one foot to the other, sweating profusely.

Why wasn’t he in the cage with me? , he had been before the trial. That word had taken away my dignity and any kind of civility with which I would be treated.

I lifted my stare to his face and felt him squirm to avoid looking back.

I released him and watched his hand alone. His diamond encrusted cufflink was worth probably more than my whole suit.

I looked down at myself, suddenly embarrassed. My grandmother had insisted on selling her mother’s tea set to pay for a new suit for me. It was second hand and three sizes too big. The scratchy material was irritating my skin and the musty smell that accompanied it had still not totally gone.

The tie Nan had lovingly tied around my neck that morning was now drenched in sweat and beginning to feel like a noose.

“They’ll be taking you straight to Barton’s; er… you should be ok in there…. I’ll see you in a few weeks about any appeal options….If you have any... er questions?” There he left a moment in the pretence of caring about what I may wish to ask.

“Good luck Mr Parsons, I really must be going now… Yes er yes” I didn’t look up; I turned just to see his ample backside waddling around the corner.

I looked at my hands taking in each detail of tainted flesh. It sickened me to see so I shut my eyes, but then the shadows came.

[han lin]

I couldn’t think in a straight line, my train of thought kept crashing off the rails. I’m not sure how I escaped the building; my footsteps like my heartbeat were racing out of control.

I flew across a road, angry shouts and tooting horns were drowned by the one word. Guilty. It was echoing around my head, reverberating off my scattered thoughts and cutting my questions into a million unanswerable shards.

A chain link fence stopped my sprint and I pushed myself into it, searching for a sense of reality. My fingers grasped at the wire, its calm brutality biting unbiased into my skin, my blood staining like rust.

My knees ceased to exist and I crumpled against the barrier, hands still trailing blood above my head. I fell silhouetted like some kind of post modern crucifix.

Time passed but I noticed nothing. I was frozen and unaware; as a foetus in a womb.

A carrier bag was crackling against my left leg and suddenly I was aware of the rain.

A cool trickle ebbed down my neck and collected in the small of my back. I opened my eyes to darkness and I could feel the water cleansing my wounds.

I don’t know how long I stayed there, but at some point I began to make my way towards home.

Its funny how happy memories are often those you’d rather forget. Each step cracked through the façade I’d been trying to build up since Will’s arrest.

I felt as if my spine had been removed. How could I ever stand up straight without him?

[han lin]

The sound hit me like a hammer, Deadening my senses and almost knocking me over.

I was drowning in the angry shouts, struggling to keep my head above their reaching insults and degrading opinions.

Those people hated me. They had to be held back by policemen. They wanted to tear me apart. There were only about ten steps to the van, but each slight movement was a magnet for word missiles. Sticks and stones could break my bones but words could break my back.

Flashbulbs clicked, my feet scuffed over the tarmac and I focused my gaze on the van door.

The chant was in time with my heartbeat.

Murderer
Murderer
Murderer

The knowledge that their eyes were turned my way sickened me and I had to gulp down great mouthfuls of air to stop myself from vomiting.

I’m a private person, I was then. I didn’t like attention. These people didn’t know me. They thought they did. They knew the newspaper articles, the news reels, they knew nothing of me, yet they still wanted my blood. I could smell it on the air, pack longing, blood lust.

Anger replaced fear and suddenly I didn’t care about the cameras or the guards. These people had no right to call me these things.

I stopped dead three footsteps away from the welcoming orifice of the van. I turned my head slowly upwards and looked. I fixed four separate people with my stare and felt each one seep into silence, the words chocked away.

That was my victory, and however miscalculated or wrong it was, I enjoyed it. Its insignificance only struck me as the door clicked shut behind me and the van jolted into movement.



I remember the way she held my hand on the train. We were so happy then. A dirty weekend was all we wanted; a dirty secret is all we got.

She let me carry her bags but I didn’t mind, I thought I loved her. I do love her.

She was so excited about the trip. I could see the corners of her mouth twitch and move with each seamless passing of emotions she was feeling; excitement, longing, apprehension, happiness.

I remember pushing the hair from her cheek and placing it behind her ear. She was so beautiful, so fragile. She reached up her hand and her fingers entwined in mine and all at once, no one else existed.

We could have been anywhere, at any time and nothing would have been any different. I was totally and utterly filled by her, her smell, her taste, her touch.

I gazed into her deep brown eyes and entered her soul. She was the only one never to look away from my stare. That had fascinated me from the first moment I met her. At first it had unnerved me but I grew to love it. And her.

We’d gone on a Tuesday, had planned to be married on the Friday, but by Thursday I had been arrested.

She was wearing light blue jeans and a tight white tee shirt. The white looked dazzling against her Mediterranean skin, her mahogany hair cascading down her back I knew people looked at her and wished they were me. I liked it.

She always smelled of coconuts and soap, always smelled clean always.

When our stop was called, she jumped excitedly onto one leg and kissed me on the cheek. Her eyes were smiling and she had a cheeky grin plastered across her face.

“Are you coming?” she asked playfully.

She needn’t have worried. I would have followed her anywhere.

[rivsfan]

thats really good!!!!

[Un'Anima Persa]

I loved it. Very descriptive with a wide range of vocab. Great plot. It was fabulous.