Why Would I Write

Category: Writing (Prompts)

  • The Way

    Where the hell am I? I thought to myself as I was being shooed off the bus. I had fallen asleep and missed my stop. And since it was past midnight, the bus wasn’t going to make another trip back.

    I adjusted my backpack on my shoulders and walked out of the parking lot of the bus station. It was pitch black save the occasional street lamp illuminating a section of the road. But as far as I could see, there was nothing around me. No buildings or landmarks that I recognized. How long was I asleep? I pulled out my phone and tried to call an Uber. There was nobody in the area to pick me up. Shit.

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  • A slow descent

    I’m tired, cynical and broken but wiser.

    It’s been almost a month since the incident. Yet it replayed in his head over and over again, as though it had just taken place yesterday. He let out a sigh. What choice do I have? Plenty. And you chose to walk down that path. You’re just another statistic.

    Fuck.

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  • Time and time (again)

    It all started when I was ‘punished’ by Muthu. Leader of one of the most notorious gangs in the Federal Correctional Institute. He didn’t like the way I eyed him for three seconds when he cut in front of me during lunch time. I did my best to give him a ‘don’t fuck with me’ stare because I was there for murder and wasn’t remorseful about it. He didn’t seem fazed, as evident during our toilet break – he and his goons grabbed me and shoved my head into one of the restroom’s toilet bowls.
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