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Enchanted Casey

Part one

By Amourè DeezyyPublished 2 years ago Updated 2 years ago 5 min read
Wicked enhancements

I woke up in the middle of a dark cold room, with the smell of drywall and an overwhelming stench of blood once again, I open my eyes only to see the dark, pitch-black room catches a glimpse of light from the slot that opens to the left when a tray full of stale mysterious food I force myself to eat comes shooting. I always hear footsteps walking past and the sound of the guards snapping fingers, whistling, and rattling keys.

Once in a while, someone from the other side will be sent over and they startle my peace by kicking or pounding on the shielded door to see who’s in here. I’m in maybe one of the most secure temporary confinement cells in California.It’s bizarre to those who stop past and slide that slot to the left and speak to me, how much knowledge one person can hold in such a space, and what a great plan I have for myself if they ever let me out of here.

See I was sentenced to life without parole but through the thirteen years of being here, I've grown and have had to deal with my demons on my own, only finding that I become an inspiration to the other ladies here, See I've done a lot of dirt but it’s come to a point where it’s all cleaned up.

To my understanding, these generous acts are invisible because I so often find myself being sent to the hole or within the 4 concrete walls catching glares of light from a rectangular slot as if I was an animal.

Before being sent to this box I spent my time in the library where most of our books are donated from children foundations or from old ladies who enjoy sewing, I know because I read a book called Alice In Wonderland and it had a little girl's name “Sarah” on the back of it and the scratches, crayon marks and ripped pages had to come from a 7-year-old.

Every day I got more into the minds of the characters, but never would I have thought that I would become the Mad Hatter himself. Yes, I am him in the flesh, only if I could get enough sunlight in here to see my flesh, I barely remember what color I am. I can only remember the flashes of each scene verbatim, only because I read the book about twice a day, seems to be the only book that catches my interest each time, like it calls out Casey!

When I’m browsing for a new pick-up. The book speaks to me on so many levels, I can’t help but to think the red queen's story, is my own life story written in a fictional wonderland, our environments created who we are and no one can hear our cry for help and just an apology for the ones who hurt us enough to make us react this way.

As I constantly read this book I become familiar with the red queen as if she was my patient in therapy or some sort. See others read this book and make her the “villain” I mean which she is, but no one has ever stopped to think why she is so evil, why does she scream “ off with their heads !”, Simply because she has been neglected and taken advantage of when she was nicer, all she got was stares and chuckles at her big head, when she never asked for that appearance, she got it through her sisters inflicted pain upon her, the white queen.

The white queen wasn’t even supposed to be the white queen until the red queen was humiliated at her event of being crowned queen being as though she was the oldest and up next to be the queen. Things got so overwhelming for her that she turned into what people expected from her, “Evil”.

I can’t help but shake my head in this empty room because my thoughts of this book remind me so much of myself, I was 17 years old when I was arrested for defending myself against my mother's murderer, I kneeled under a barrel of a gun and begged him not to kill her but he did, I quickly grabbed the closest thing to me ( A knife) and as soon as he turned around I stabbed him, he died. I cannot say I regret it because nothing was more traumatizing the seeing my mother's blood run, I was sentenced to life without parole because a big story was made up about how I had motives for killing both my mother and my stepdad(my mother's killer) Simply because I had been running away from the abuse and neglect I received at home.

When they first put me in jail I had plenty of altercations with the other women, only because I was 17 and everyone thought I wasn’t tough, No one knew that I didn't kill my mother, so I got plenty of threats from the “ Religious “ the “ Mom lovers” for sure, each day I would get a note slid through my bars somehow telling me I would rot on the shower floors when someone was done with me, it’s amazing how I came to this place as an innocent little mistreated girl and now I’m labeled as a maximum criminal.

They made me this way if you ask me, nothing but threats and fights have been broken out since I got here, all because I’m misunderstood because no one ever took the time to talk to me. Well I'm 32 now and I can say I may be the most respected person here, but it's sad because I barely think it’s the respect I receive, I feel the fear.

Crazy how the queen of hearts is nearly respected and everyone talks bad about her, but no one will ever disrespect her out of fear for her phrase “Off with their heads”. Sometimes I wish I did not have to fight, I could yell that too. Since I've been in this dark room I've had plenty of time to think about my journey as a person here, but more importantly, I've had time to think about why I’m here and my rights, I never was fortunate so I couldn’t afford a good attorney especially being as though my mom wasn’t alive to help pay.

I ended up with a racist jew who didn’t seem to care too much about my case when I was sentenced so many overwhelming thoughts rushed through my head and I automatically became the bad guy.

After so many years in the same space, I figured why not turn to God and change, They assigned me a counselor who insists I’m “So violent. “

It never seems to amaze me how my counselor can understand everything I express but when it's time to talk to the parole board where my freedom is at her hands she seems to forget anything we've talked about. I tried hanging myself in a cell before but that just made them say I was even more unstable to be in the real world again.

Thanks for reading my fictional piece. If you resonated and enjoyed it, please let me know by hitting the heart, subscribing for more content, and considering dropping a small tip to help encourage and fund further creations from me. Appreciated, never required!

Many thanks.

You can also check out my recent fictional series “ What time is it? ” here:

Short Story

About the Creator

Amourè Deezyy

Unorthodox woman creating soul-feeding content for great people who are connecting with themselves.

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    Amourè DeezyyWritten by Amourè Deezyy

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