Ten long years spent behind locked iron gates awaiting my release. And now that it is here, I am so filled with fear, a part of me wants to stay.
I know it sounds crazy, but what am I going out to? No one waiting at the gate, no place to call home. Will I be added to the throngs of the homeless, the drug addled, the petty thieves, the lost, the forgotten?
With just two hundred dollars gate money, and an appointment with parole- my freedom looms ominously before me, yet all I can think about- is escape.