I know for a fact it was justified, but be that as it may, it was...ugly.
Before I was convicted, I was nothing more than a thief. A short-con artist that made a living playing my marks for fools...come to find out though, I wasn't really any good at it because ultimately, I got caught.
On the day of my sentencing, my heart sank lower than bones as the judge said the words, & it was at that specific moment that I felt my soul die...Up until then, I never gave a thought to that type of esoteric BS, but when it gave its death rattle & left me, it rang out in my ears & across the courtroom as an audible moan of defeat...& that sound will stay with me until the moment I die.
I've always been told that in prison, one should be feared in order to survive...well, I've never been a fearsome kind of guy. It makes gaining a marks' trust difficult to say the least in my line of work, so instead, as I was being processed into the block, I made a conscious decision to go insane.
On my 1st day in genpop...at random, I ripped the throat out of a man twice my size with my teeth...and survived.
After being released from solitary a few months later, no one 'effed with me ever since.
I ultimately lived through my sentence because of it, but the most important thing that I learned through it all is that living ain't really living when you're dead inside.
...plus on a side note, I've noticed since then, that I love the feel of rending meat with my teeth.
Don't Judge me. I've already been there & done that, thank you.
