Released

“Sorry.” That is the last thing that the warden said to me as the prison m guards opened up the heavy iron doors that comprise the formidable gate to the state prison, setting me free at last from its impenetrable and soul crushing walls that have been my home for far too long. The system has finally acknowledged what I have known for almost two decades: I am innocent. I am not a murderer. Another man killed those people, not me.

No one had truly believed me before: not my family or friends, not the judge, and not the jury. Heck, not even my own lawyer fully believed me even as he fought and failed to keep me free those many years ago. But now, the true killer has finally confessed (after killing more people while I as locked up), and their tone has changed at long last.

For so long, everyone has viewed me as a liar and a killer, but now they take pity on me, an innocent man who has wrongly suffered for so long. After realizing I was innocent, everyone was quick to reverse their course and push for my freedom.

However, it can never be like it was before. Even those who believe I’m innocent, and many still do not, still don’t look at me like they did before I was wrongly accused. They look at me like I'm tainted. They may take pity on me or know that I’m innocent and trying to rebuild my life, but they still avoid me out of convenience, or safety, or fear. They don’t want to associate with a convict, even an exonerated one. In their eyes, even if I wasn’t a criminal when I was first locked up, I have spent so long in prison that, as far as they are concerned, I am a corrupted and changed man, altered by the system designed to reform me.

And, on some level, they may be right. When you are condemned to life in prison, not many people try to reform you or care about you, they just try to keep you locked away. And, as hard as I tried not to, in order to survive I have had to do bad things, even if I didn’t want to. Prison culture can be different and can have lasting and damaging effects, especially if you are locked away forever, destined to never leave. Plus, I have been walled away for so long, I’ve missed so much. The world I am being released into is far different than the one I knew before I was sent to prison. Society has changed, and I’ve been left behind.

So, while I may finally be free, my true struggle has finally begun. I must rebuild my life, convince people that they shouldn’t avoid me, catch up on everything I’ve missed, find employment and a home, rebuild friendships, and try to move on, all while having to cope with what I’ve been through and the stigma attached to me. Some support has been offered to me, but is it enough? And even though I’m one of the lucky ones who received compensation for my wrongful conviction, it can never fully make me whole. Nothing can make up for the lost time, all the things I’ve missed, all the time I wasted behind bars. This is just one of those things that can never be fully fixed, no matter how hard one may try.

However, as the gate is finally open, and I look back one last time, I smile as I realize that I am free at last, even if I face a long struggle ahead.