\i-'pen(t)-thə-səs, e- \

:the insertion or development of a sound or letter in the body of a word as in \'a-thə-lēt\

 

 

       I thought I wasn't going to be scared today. I was wrong. 

          This place has become my home. The clacking of the warden's heels sounded as familiar as my mother's voice, the cement floor as comforting as my bed, the bars like the door to my bedroom. Except I couldn't open them. Nonetheless, this place accepted me. 

          On the first day, I was shivering as I entered this cell. There was no bed, and the toilet... there was none actually, just a hole in a corner of the room. Across from us was the boys side, filled with big, burly men, and some skinny, deprived looking guys. I looked at the girls on our side, most of them looked underfed, and some looked plain sick. 

          I stopped crying and steeled myself, after all, I made the resolve to feel nothing. I was dead the day they sentenced me. 

          For a few days, I lived without speaking to anyone, until I saw someone on the boys side. 

          "Hi, I'm Myungsoo." He said when he caught me staring. I couldn't help it. He just looked so... fresh. "Well, aren't you going to introduce yourself?" He asked, an eyebrow raised. How could he seem so... cheerful?

          "Jesun." I answered. I didn't want to add anything else. 

          "And why are you here?" He asked again. Pesky. 

          "Isn't it obvious? It's because I killed someone." 

          "Uh huh. Now I want to hear the real reason." 

          I frowned. This was the section designated for homicides. What else could I have done? 

          He sighed. "She was accused because a rich kid hates her," he said, pointing to a skinny girl. "He hit a guy who was cheating on his girl," he said, this time pointing to a dude with a name tattooed on his collarbone. "She was just walking around and got... unlucky. It was self-defense, but she didn't kill anyone." He pointed now to a girl staring blankly at the wall. 

          I saw where this was going. We were all just fellows who, unluckily, were accused by the wrong people. Innocents. "I killed him." 

          "No you didn't." He smiled. "The real killer usually puts up a big fight coming in here." 

          "I highly doubt that. They're probably stoic because they know they deserve to be here." 

          From his spot on the wall opposite me, he inched closer and whispered conspiratorially. "I know you didn't do it, but if you won't tell me what really happened, I understand." 

         I didn't tell him. For a few days, that is. I learned then that Myungsoo pried the story out of every new inmate we had. They called him L, because they say he finds the innocent ones and the real killers, like the guy in Death Note. But he doesn't get them guilty or anything, he can't. Most of us didn't deserve to be here, but we all knew that the death sentence we received wasn't going to be overturned. What could we do? 

          Myungsoo, though. He was the only one who lived with happiness and hope. Something that everyone here lost on the day they were sentenced. He still hoped that he would get out of here alive, that he would get the justice he so deserved. 

          Amazingly, he made me talk. More, but still not enough. Today, I woke up because of someone nudging my shoulder. 

          "Today's our day." She said. We entered on the same day, and we were going to leave together too. I don't know why Myungsoo's sentence was longer, and why he still hoped to be free, but I wanted to talk to him one last time. 

          The caretakers gave us a bath, and I instantly felt hatred for them. Why would they only let us cleanse ourselves on our final day? Do they want us to feel the dirt on our bodies even though we knew we were clean all along? 

          They returned us to our cells to say one last goodbye to everyone. Thanks to Myungsoo's help, I made new friends, and was actually starting to feel sad to say goodbye to them. 

          Myungsoo was the hardest to say goodbye to. "You look pretty today, just like the day I met you." I found it sad, that we had to meet here. I wish we had met earlier, so that I wouldn't have dated that boy. I would have fallen in love with Myungsoo. I would have had the chance to.

          I wish he could have known me when I was still that grammar nazi little reader who wanted to become a journalist, not as a convict. Maybe because I was going to die in a few hours, I started to cry. 

          He cried with me. He cried everyday actually, whenever we said goodbye to someone, but he smiled when we said hello to someone new. I told him my story. And he said, "Of course you didn't do it!" while patting my shaking shoulders, even though his were shaking as well. 

          Then the hour came. I didn't want to be without him, even though I didn't want to feel that way. I shouldn't have talked to him at all. My resolve to feel nothing was crushed because Life sneaked itself into my death. Feeling this alive made me feel some loss. I cried more when I saw my family, especially my sister who's always wanted to become a lawyer to bring justice to this world. 

         I told her that even though it was too late for me, she could still save him. And we all cried some more. 
 
          Before they injected me, A million thoughts ran through my head. Why was this happening to me, I wish I was born in another lifetime, and such. But branded into my mind was an impossible hope that couldn't be, because they already inserted the needle in my arm.