Why...or Maybe, Why Not

The truth be hanged. The fact is they gave me this pad of paper and a cheap leaky pen. They ordered me to write my confession and said then and only then could I relax in my cell.

Their eyes showed nothing but scorn. Their hands were rough, and they showed no patience. Being a female did not make my situation better. My twenty-eight years on this earth never included incarceration. I ran my fingers through my short blonde hair and adjusted my trim athletic figure for confrontation.

They warned me that unless I started writing this ridiculous confession, I was going to be in big trouble. And now it’s time to turn the tables.

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