RICHARD’S P.O.V.

Three days later...

“You are a freeman now, mate! Don’t forget me”, the jailer spoke as he opened the gate.

I didn’t reply, just nodded. To me, reality left meaning long ago.

All these years, if there was anyone with whom I had exchanged words with, was either my solitude or him.

“Here, take your belongings”, he handed me a small cloth bag, I took it.

The gates opened. I looked back.

“Thank you, for all these years for your company.” I said.

The jailer smiled. The gates closed again.

Strange, isn’t it? I ended up liking this place – I felt safe here.

So now, a new life? New beginning? Where shall I start?

Or why shoud I even start?  That’s the question.

I took a taxi.

“Where do you wanna go?” The driver asked.

“The Jamesons Woodlands”, I instructed.

I opened the cloth bag; it contained some cash, a cell phone, a pocket diary, a pack of cigarettes and a necklace.

“Do you have a lighter?”

“Yes, here you go”, the driver passed on the lighter to me, as I took out a cigarette and lit it up. It was after years, I tasted it. The smoke chocked me but I felt solace.

Then I began reading the diary.