After the second death I witnessed I kept to myself.
Our cells were relatively new to us seeing as they only moved us a year ago. There were two people to a cell.
I can recall my cell mate was a 25 year old man called Luke. He helped me get through it. After only a week he had me back in the yard with the others and away from the small room.
He spoke his mind but always kept his mouth shut around the officers. That kept him alive thank god.
He had hopes and dreams. He never started a sentence with 'if I get out...' it was always 'when I get out...'
It was the phrase 'Always look on the bright side of life' with him.
I found out after a couple of weeks knowing him that he was married and had a little girl. Whenever he spoke of them his face would light up.
The way he spoke about his family made me a little envious. I wanted that as well.
Luke hadn't done anything to get locked up here, he was wrongly accused; the case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
But me, who in their right mind would want to have a family with a murderer?
I remember that even with that thought there was a small part of me that never gave up hope.
