Wrong and Right, the Case of the Prisone

A prisoner is accused of a crime he has not committed.  He is found guilty and sentenced to life in a maximum security prison.  He is to be in solitary confinement.  The prisoner kicks and screams as he is led out of the court room and into his new home.  Everyone that sees him pass just looks on, judging him for something he did not do.  But they did not know that; he was a killer and a rapist to them.  He knew none of them would see the fault in his lawyer's argument.  None of those people would see the clearly biased jury.  None of them.  Not one.  No person in attendance that day would think twice about the prisoner's life sentence.  But if he was sentenced to an execution, then there would have been an uproar.  If he were to physically die, then people would care and think and murmur of his possible innocence.  But not in his case.  In his case he was sentenced to life, to die a slow and miserable mental death.  But nobody cares about mental death.

The prisoner is loaded onto a bus with other convicted criminals of the worst kind.  He is going to a maximum security prison, so surely there is at least one killer on the bus.  Well, technically he is a killer.  But only to everyone else.  The bus lurches forward and the prisoner is whisked away to his castle with the walls that even have barbed wire.  The prisoner's ride is a myriad of stare-downs and skewed looks from the other men on the bus.  He would soon be in the same house as all of these men.  Not all of them were falsely accused.  But he was.

All movement stops.  The bus arrives at the new home of the prisoner.  The welcoming party consists of officers in blue and they even show the prisoner directions to the check-in desk.  The prisoner sits down at the desk he has found himself at.  A woman asks his name.  He answers with Norman Willow.  The woman compliments his name.  She thinks it flows nice.  As if that would matter in this place.  She tells the prisoner to walk down the hall to receive his new royal outfit.  The prisoner walks down the hall to an officer in blue who has a smile worn on his face.  The officer tells the prisoner to empty his pockets.  The prisoner does so.  The officer then hands the prisoner a set of royal attire, colored in orange.  The officer tells the prisoner to put it on.  The prisoner does.  There is even a number on the back of his new shirt.  The number is his name now.  Number 23-96-2327.  So much for his name flowing.  The officer smiles and directs the prisoner to his home in the castle.

The room is small and is only colored white.  The prisoner is directed in and the cell door is immediately locked.  He is finally to his new home.  The prisoner lies down in the bed and finds it comfortable, his window even has a nice view.  There is a desk for writing or reading and has many drawers.  The prisoner walks over to the desk and opens each drawer, looking to see what is in each one.  He finds pencils and sheets of paper.  He takes the pencils to the paper and starts to write about what has happened to him.  Hours fly and dinner is brought to the prisoner, who is still writing with an unknown fervor.  Soon days start going by.  The prisoner only stops for sleep and the occasional meal.  Whenever he runs low on paper or pencils he requests more and receives more.  He finds entertainment in his writing, one of the few things his wrong conviction managed not to take from him.

A month passes.  The prisoner has become good friends with the guards and refers to them by first name.  His writing is finished and he needs somebody to read it.  The prisoner asks a guard that he knows especially well.  The guard accepts.  Days go by and the prisoner does not hear back from his friend.  The prisoner starts to grow nervous that his writing was taken.

After seven days his guard friend returns.  He opens the cell and smiles at the prisoner, handing him a single paper.  The paper reads of a publication offer for the prisoner's writing.  The prisoner smiles and agrees to having his work published.

His work hits the streets of a few select stores in a few cities of the country.  A few people read the prisoner's book.  A few find inspiration in it.  A few tell their friends of the prisoner's plight.  The friends soon start to read.  Soon protests start forming outside of the castle where the prisoner was a guest.  Soon the protests grew larger.

One day an alarm goes off in the castle.  The prisoner wakes up to a person he does not know standing over him, his cell lies open.  The hero says he wishes to save the prisoner.  The prisoner refuses to go and tells the hero to stop the violence in the protest.  The hero leaves and soon the alarm goes off.  The protest goes back to a nonviolent state.  The prisoner looks out once more at the protesters.  He smiles.  And then he goes to lay down in his bed, the sound of civil unrest in his ears.