Today’s prompt – 100 words.
It feels like forever. If I were to compare it to anything, it would be sleeping for decades like Rip Van Winkle, but seriously be awake.
How can you tell me that everything will be fine when you were in prison for something you didn’t do? How do you expect me to be alright when I still haven’t found the key to let myself out of my own prison?
You say forgiveness is easy, resentment is the noose to snap your soul but… Why should I believe you?
He hugs me, whispering, “It isn’t your fault. You’re free.”