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Still Waiting

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Everyday the same routine. 4:30 am, get up. 5:00 am, shower. 10 am, meal time. 1:00-4:15 am, outside. 6:00 pm, another meal. 7:00 pm, bed. A routine repetitive enough to drive any sane man mad. And although I was a man of God, I was willing to do anything to get out of here because I'm certain this is the worst situation imaginable.

Today, on my 20th anniversary of being in the Ohio State Penitentiary, I've decided today was the day I was going to do it. End this pathetic excuse for a life.

My name is Larry Marx, and I'm 37 years old. When I was 16, my best friend and I were in a robbery.

"It will be quick," he said. Those words still ring in my head to this day.

"Here, take this." he said, handing me a gun. "We won't need to use it, but we need to look like we're serious."

We entered and quickly got down to the wire. As he was talking to the clerk though, I drifted off. I'm not sure what happened, but when I came back to reality, my friend was dead and I was in handcuffs. I'm certain I was the reason he was dead.

I got up off my cot, and luckily, my cellmate was still asleep. It was about 2 a.m., so I wouldn't be discovered immediately. I retrieved a shank made out of old plastic found on the courtyard. I knew it would take some willpower, but I'd been preparing for this moment for years now, and I wasn't just gonna back down now. I wanted relief from this world. "It will be quick," I heard in my head again. I hoped so, because I wanted to get out of this prison as fast as possible.

I put the end of the shank on the left side of my chest, and pushed as hard as I could. I ignored the urge to scream and take it out, and instead laid in my cot until I passed out.

Instead of waking up in heaven, like I pictured I would, I woke up on my cot, without a scratch on me. Had I imagined it? Was I going crazy? I can't say I would be surprised if I were.

The rest of the day went on just as it normally would have, an endless cycle of routines, but that night, when I was laying in my bed, I saw something strange.

A white figure appeared at the foot of my bed. Tall and strong, it had an inhuman impression. Rather, an existence greater than man.

"Larry, welcome to the afterlife," he said, in a booming voice that didn't seem to wake, or even bother my cell mate.

"What do you mean? This isn't heaven. This is just my horrible old prison," I responded quickly.

"You're right, it's not heaven," he said.

The figure appeared to have transformed into black ash.

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