I smiled as I kicked the chair out from under me. It had been a long time since I had been able to stand on my own two feet, and I felt a sense of freedom I had thought I’d never experience again.
But as I looked around the prison cell, I realized that freedom was an illusion. I was still in the same place I had been for the past 30 years, and the walls seemed to be closing in on me.
I could feel my heart racing as I heard a noise coming from the other side of the cell. I slowly stepped closer, and saw a figure standing there in the darkness. It was a woman, her face shrouded in shadows.
I tried to speak, but my throat was dry and my words came out as a whisper. “Who are you?” I asked.
The figure stepped closer, and I could make out her features. It was my mother, who had died years ago. She smiled at me, and said, “You may have been released from prison, but you will never be free from your guilt.”
I felt a chill run down my spine as I realized the truth. I had been wrongfully convicted, but I had still committed a terrible crime. I had taken a life, and no amount of time in prison could ever make up for it.
I had thought I was free, but I was still in chains.
