2 Rise And Shine

"Rise and shine, people! Breakfast's here." I squint at the sudden light that filled my cell, and I could hear mumblings down the wing from the other inmates waking up to the sudden lights.

I usually woke up an hour before the guards served breakfast, as I never really slept well whenever there are other people around. It's not that I had an issue with peoples snoring or anything. Nor did I feel subconscious about it. I've just never been able to sleep soundly whenever other people are anywhere near my vicinity. Due to this, i usually only got four or five hours of restless sleep - tops.

Being a kid generally sucks when you're in death row. To the guards - or correction officers, as they are actually called - we were usually seen as less than the other inmates. Probably because the fact that kids could commit crimes to be put down makes them uncomfortable or something. It also usually takes anywhere between ten or thirty years before your 'big day' comes around, since theres so much paperwork, trials and plea agreements. I, however, for whatever reason, was scheduled just two years after I was sentanced. I suppose it's because I supposedly 'instigate issues in the prison just by being there', or whatever the guards mentioned every now and again.

During our time in death row, we inmates usually spend around 23 hours in our cells, without any yard time, no recreational activities or even work around the prison.The only times we ever got to leave our cells were if we had visitors - which me and Jack never got.

Usually, breakfast contained a bowl of oatmeal, a glass of water, and sometimes a sandwich or just a piece of bread. Sometimes we even got a glass of orange juice on the weekends. Today, however, was my last meal. So rather than the usual - the slot of the door opening, allowing a plastic tray with out usual breakfast to appear for me to grab - the door itself opened, allowing a serving table covered in a white tablecloth to be rolled in. On the table, were pitchers of water, milk and apple juice, two serving plates covered in those metalic domes things that covered the food. I think they were called cloche hats? I was given a padded chair to sit on for the next hour while I ate. A guard stood in the doorway, looking outward as to give me privacy, but also to make sure I dont get the idea to try and steal a knife. (They would pat me later, I was sure, in case I would've tried. I didn't bother though.)

I sat down, opening the first hat. On the plate in front of me, was my last meal request. A simple chicken breast, with sweet potatoes, gravy and other vegetables. This might be a bit heavy for breakfast, but it was because I specifically asked to receive my last meal in the morning, rather than in the late evening. I wanted the whole thing to just be over.

Curious, I opened the second hat. A one-person 'happy birthday' cake sat underneath. I snickered mockingly. I would never know if it was a joke or a sweet gesture by the guards - or whoever made my meal. Nor could I know if it were a deliberate decision or not to have me executed on my birthday.

Yes, you read that correct, today was my birthay, as poetic as it might be to simultaneously have it be my deathday, as well as the exact same day of the year when I allegedly killed those kids.

As I dug into my meal, savoring the rich flavor and lean meat of the chicken, I began to think back to how I ended up eating this meal. What events caused me to sit in this very cell in the first place.

Roden Tillman. He had been unwaveringly tormenting me ever since he met me when I started at this school. I had lost track on which school I was on, as I had been jumping from school to school at least once a year. For all I know, this was my fiftieth. Honestly, I don't understand why I did not just get a tutor instead. Was it because of my appearance? My fashion style? Honestly, I doubt even he knew the reason. No one ever seemed to have a real reason for messing with me. I seemed to just awaken the need in to harm someone whenever I was near them. Today, however, he seemed especially at it. He probably knew it was my birthday somehow, even though I never told anyone.

I remember the sharp, sudden pain as he grabbed me by my hair unexpectedly. And with his friends carrying the rest of me, he dragged me to the nearest row of lockers, where mine happened to be.

They dropped me there on the ground, briefly, before Roden pulled me by the neck of my leather jacket, carrying me off of the ground. Pure hatred for my well being shown in his eyes as he slammed me face-first into my locker, which was spraypainted with, less than flattering, words of encouragement.

Roden might be the only one to directly harm me, but I had no doubt that most, if not all, of the school either hated me or were just afraid of being around me. I had apparently gained a reputation from all the schools I've been to as the 'trouble girl', and said rumors had clearly made their way to this corner of the education industry.

As my face crashed into my locker door, I remember so clearly that something - snapped.

Or, perhaps 'snapped' wasn't quite the right word. It was more that something awakened within me, a feeling that hadn't left me till this day, where I sat eating my chicken. A feeling of awakedness - for a lack of better way to describe it.

Next thing i remember, the smell of iron and musk filled my broken nose. I thought at first it was the blood that had surely filled my nostrils, but as I opened my eyes, they emidiately began to water at the putrid stench that filled the hallway.

As I surveyed the hall, I could barely recognize any of the bodies that lay before me. I could not even quite count them accurately, much less recognize them. The only thing I recognized was the red-and-purple hoodie covered in the big pile of fire and blood in front of me. I was standing in the middle of a blood-bathed massacre, and to this day, I do not remember a second of it.

This did not matter to the judge, though. Supposed eye witnesses all told that I was the savage perpetrator, murderer of 23 kids in my yeargroup. Even though only one - a teacher - could verify they they actually saw the scene.

Other than eye witness and circumstantial evidence, however, it wasn't much they hadon to me. Only the footage from the security cameras were of any solid proof. But the cameras only caught the footage of Roden smashing my face into the locker. However, the split-second before my face collided with my locker, a bright, red light shone from where my face was about to collide, and the camera went black.

Security suggested that something broke off from the lockers when I hit it, and the shrapnel hit straight into the cameras lens, causing it to break. This was a problem, since it didn't show me actually killing anyone. The footage did, however, show probable cause for my alleged actions.

I remember the utter hopelessness i felt as the photage was shown, and the judge's final decision seemed to be made.

I was to be thrown into death scentance.

I finished my meal and grabbed my small cake, its white lettering seemed pure as snow as i ate it in bliss.

I looked in the mirror for, what I assumed would be the last time. A pale face greeted me. Blood red pupils pierced back into me through the bangs of my chin-length, raven black hair. I fixed up my hair slightly, before walking up to the guard, who was now watching me patiently. It was time for me to get my last piece of fresh air.