I'm afraid I'll end up
Forgetting who I am.
My name.
My family.
My everything.
I'm only 25,
Could I really forget
So young?
Probably.
It happens.
But will it to me?
This is probably a
Different kind of
Forgetfulness.
Not the kind that happens
To old people.
But to people
Like me.
Killers.
Monsters.
The kind of
Forgetfulness where you
Don't forget all the
Bad shit you've done.
The faces of
All those people.
Their horrified expressions.
Their widened eyes.
Their desperate attempts
To get away.
I tried to get away once,
But look where that got me.
In here.
I'll forget all the good things.
Eventually.
I know I will.
I wonder what would happen
If I didn't try to run away.
Maybe none of this
Would've happened.
Although I do doubt it.
I would've kept
Killing people.
I don't think I'd
Ever stop until I got caught.
Unfortunately that happened
A little earlier than I
Had hoped.
I knew I was gonna
Die eventually.
I deserved it.
It was coming for me.
I just didn't realize it until
September 14, 2015.
My first day in this dump.
And damn,
Now it's 2016,
Now it's February.
Day one hundred forty nine
In this place.
Feels weird writing it down.
Also feels weird
Saying it outloud.
I've been in here
For too long.
Just get it
Over with already!
Kill me off!
YOU ARE READING
Sal
Short StoryBeing stuck on death row can be pretty boring. Why not write about everything until the inescapable death that waits for me just as much as I wait for it.
