The Narrative Of A Prisoner

I have been lying here, wounded, in a prison cell. That day, the inspector found me running away from a wealthy person’s house.

I had been passing by, hungry and tired. I had just lost my job. I stopped as I read the name on the gate. I knew that one of my friends worked as a servant in that house. I wondered if he could help me get a new job there. So I went inside to talk to him.

Before I entered the house, I heard some noises, and saw three men running away. It was quite dark in the evening, and I could not see them clearly. I got confused and so frightened by some sudden noise that I could not move. I soon realised that the loud noise was that of a siren of police cars approaching the place. The owner of the house, who had called them, told them that the house had been robbed. He suspected that the servant had let the two robbers into the house, and had run away with them later.

Soon, I realised my position – that I was the likeliest suspect. I did not know what to do. I tried to escape. With me I carried the money I had been given when I left my job.

Unfortunately, the police caught me and arrested me.

They brought me to this prison cell and beat me. They wanted me to tell the truth, and I did so. But they did not believe me.

Now as I wait here, I do no know what my fate will be. I can but pray.