This is all I have written in the last 24 hours. It’s not much, but it is at least something. This piece is not finished, and as always, it is unedited.
They told me to write, so I did. That’s how I came to be here, sitting on Death Row, waiting for them to take my life.
I can almost see you scratching your head, wondering how on earth the simple act of writing could lead to Death Row. There’s probably a dozen different scenarios running through your mind right now, but I’ll bet you ten quid that none of them are as far-fetched as the truth.
It all started twenty years ago. I was a witness in a trial and I had to speak the truth about my past. Half-way through my cross-examination, my voice faltered at first, and then died completely. I became mute, trapped inside my body, alone with my thoughts, and unable to communicate without the aid of the written word…….