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Innocent Sinner

Murder was the case for a lot of us brown brothers. But some cases a lot worse then others. Force to fight to prove my innocence of sin. Doing it all slam down from the dungeon again. Why must I be another statistic in this survey of life? Why must I be the person to blame for taking a life? That moment in time when I answer my phone I wish I could erase. Cause whoever thought that murder would be the case. Am I awake, or am I still asleep? Cause my book of life has gotten way to deep. Is this the present, future, or past? How long will my destiny be in limbo last? Nothing is in black and white, there is a shade of grey. How can this be a nightmare if I’m not really afraid. A multitude of girls in my mind that I knew before. I see all of their names on my concrete floor. I remember their scent, their thought, and even their taste, as I walk back and forth, at a slow pace. Did they love me? I guess I’ll never know. Human hearts go from warm to cold. Why do I hear snoring? Oh its Jose he’s been shot in the chest. But didn’t he already breathe his last breath? Now I hear that kind of scream that cannot be mimic. I feel it all around me as if I were standing right in it. It’s the kind of scream that rips itself from the body making the blood curdle and the skin freeze. I feel the weakness in my knees. Within half a second the pain and the screams are gone. And all I see is me, looking at me, flipping a penny. But the other me is 14 years old. I remember that age and a crime so cold. I remember that penny and the story I never told. Why am I in the present thinking of my past? Pretty penny dash. I committed a lot of sin back in the day. But I’m not the one who killed Jose.

--Juan, Adult