"Life," that was the verdict handed down for my deeds. Despite the circumstances that led to that being the verdict, I couldn't help but smile to myself. Taking care not to let the judge or defendant see it. Everything happened so quickly after that. I was allowed to retrieve what little I had from my holding cell. Due to my crimes, I had not had to wait very long for my day in court. They got me for four counts, only four. This makes me laugh as I sit on the empty bus, well empty except the driver, monitor, and I that is. A very curt, "silence" issued from the monitor. I stifle my laughter, but I don't stop. At least not until the bus pulls into the intake garage for the penitentiary where I was to serve out my time. They pulled me from the bus and into the heck-in area. They stripped, searched, and cleaned me. The usual orange jumpsuit was put on me, and I was taken to my new home.

Thankfully the powers that be here saw fit to put me in a cell alone. It would be too troublesome if I had to share.

The first year within these walls passed by relatively uneventful. They kept me separate from the general population. I can only assume they did this in fear that I was still a danger to others. This, however, did not stop the guards from taking their frustrations out on me. Of course, for the moment, I did not mind the abuse, finding their information, and taking revenge will be easy.

This first guard to abuse me happened a mere two weeks into my sentence. The night guard was on his patrol around the darkened halls. It was around two in the morning, and I was still awake. I really don't sleep much, the boredom I feel during these hours may have been partly to blame for my actions. That or I am evil like the media says.

The guard came into my cell and just stood and grinned at me. Moments later, the lights dimmed to almost complete darkness. He took no time to pull me to my feet and slam me against the wall next to the window. He growled something at me, I assume, in an attempt to frighten me. It did not work, I smiled at him. This caused him to slam me again this time, eliciting a grunt of pain from me. That is going to sting in the morning. This time I heard what he growled, "do you know me," he asked. His left-hand gripping and squeezing my neck while his right hand did something out of my line of sight. I was never one to panic in any situation. I just stared at him unaffected as I told him simply, "no." Another slam this time, he held a picture up in front of my face as he spoke, "that was my brother!" the hand holding the photo punched the wall near my head. When I looked at the picture again, it showed two men, the guard, and one younger-looking. I recognized the other, he had been the reason I got caught. I was sloppy with him. I could feel his hand squeezing my neck more as the seconds passed in silence.

After a few moments, the guard looked at his watch than stuffed the photo back in his pocket. Picking me up by the neck, he tosses me back on the bed. As he leaves, he whispers to me just loud enough for me to hear, "I will make sure you will never forget our names." Alone again, I gently touched the bruise I no doubt now had and grinned. Brothers that were this close were a bit rare in this day and age. It's going to be fun when this joker is on duty.

The next time he got me alone was in the shower. He brought a couple of friends, and unlike last time there was not talking. The friends held my arms out, forcing me against the wall, as the brother beat me. I noticed that he made sure to hit me where the jumpsuit covered, how considerate. At least until he caught my smile. It enraged him further causing him to lose control. His final blows were to my face, effectively causing me to blackout.

When I came to, I was in the infirmary, my hands strapped to the bed. For the doctors' protection, I am sure. As I am testing my reach, in walks the doctor, naturally a female. "You're awake, good," she walked right up to my bedside, it was then I noticed I was the only patient at the moment. "Uh yeah," was all I managed before she spoke again. "This is the first time we met, that's unusual since I have to examine every inmate when they arrive." I interrupted her before she could continue after taking a breath. "There is no need I never get sick. When can I return to my cell?" my comment and question seemed to catch her a bit off guard. She was silent for a beat, thinking, I suppose. She spoke, "everyone says that, but no worries I did my examination while you were unconscious, you're as fit as a fiddle. Since you're awake now, I will let the guard know, and they will take you back." With that, she walked off, leaving me alone. Not too long after, I was taken back to my cell.

Like this, the years passed. On a nearly daily basis, the guard with the grudge, I call him Greg, will come to me wherever I am and take out his anger. Sometimes he will beat me; other times, he will torture me with whatever was to hand. Once he forced himself on me, while I didn't hate any of it, I really enjoyed that interaction. I did something similar to his brother.

Twenty (20) years into my life sentence, and Greg left the job. I found out that he retired, and due to an investigation into the death of another inmate in the general population, most of the other guards were replaced. The new warden was a control freak, so when she came, she had her hand in every aspect of running the prison. From the kind of soap bought to telling the guards when to go on break. It was none other than the warden herself to tell me this. She had to meet with me to show me who was in charge. She told me, "I don't know who you think you are, but your easy ride is over." I am sure I showed confusion at her words because she added, "you have been blocking the previous warden from moving you to the general population. That stops now, I will not be swayed like he was. You will be moved today." I didn't want to tell her I knew nothing about that, let her think whatever. If I had to guess though the one who was really blocking was Greg.

As promised later, that day, I was moved. My new cell wasn't as comfortable as my old one. The reason is that I now had to share. My new roomie was a relatively unimpressive waif of a girl. Her sentence was short, only ten (10) years, the result of a third strike. Despite my efforts not to get close to her, we became friends. Her name was Samantha. The warden's words notwithstanding the next ten (10) were spent in relative happiness. The next one I had was trouble, she thought she was the alpha dog. While she was not my most recent type, I took great pleasure proving how worthless she really was. Of course, my playtime was discovered, and back into solitary, I went.

This was my life for the next 70 odd years. I split my time in solitary being either physically abused by the guards in solitary or emotionally abused by the warden in general population. Every time there was a restructuring of the prison system. Nothing really changed other than new guards, a new warden, and my location within those walls.

Cellmates came and went, and after a conversation with the other long-term residents, they acted like the peons they were. In my hundred (100) year of being incarcerated, it happened. The near-collapse of the penal system and the loss of most records. They say it was just a computer glitch that is easily fixed, but I know better now.

My records were one of the ones that was only partially lost. That is to say that anything to do with my sentence was erased. Due to the public outcry, all corrupted files were pardoned and released. One by one, mass murders and petty thieves alike were released back into society.

I was the last one. Despite the length of time I was inside, there were still those who were around for my trail. Enough to make trouble for me alone. Before my official release there was to be a review of my records.

I sat in the newly designed courtroom. I, as the offender, was relegated to an enclosed box, more like a free-standing closet, situated right across from the juror's box. Although I could hear everything going on beyond the walls, I was left to stare at a blank wall. I found out later that even though I couldn't see anything, to those in the courtroom, I was inside a glass box. Besides this new set up, nothing much else had changed. I had no lawyer; I was to speak for myself. It was all going very dull as they read out my charges for all to hear. After the allegations, what records that were kept about my stay were then read aloud. At least that was what would have happened if the first line had not been. "March 25th, 2006, prisoner 7829877, formerly known as Azreala Davis, is hereby sentenced to life without the possibility of parole." When there was a pause here, the confused muttering could be heard throughout the courtroom. As I looked around the room, I assumed a wide grin on my face. The sounds of confusion and horror gave me much pleasure.

It took around five (5) minutes for the judge to regain his composure and then another ten (10) for him to get everyone else to settle down. The rest of it went fairly quickly. No one believed that I have been inside for a hundred (100) years. Nor that I still looked the same now as I did then. They simply assumed it was from the assault on the records, a prank. So I was pardoned since my records were clearly incorrect.

Several days later, I left the jail-house for the last time as a free woman. At least for now, you see this wasn't my first time within such walls. Although last time the press had dubbed me Jack the Ripper. The idiots thought I was a man just because I was only killing women of the night. Of course, killing them was not how I ended up in jail back then. That is a story for someone else. I wonder if that manuscript will ever be found.

You may be wondering why I am telling this to you of all people. You see, you are the great-grandson of that guard. You know the one that tortured me because I took his brother from him. You are also the last of the bloodline. I saved you for last, especially. I don't know if you know this, but you look just like him, too bad for you now I can take out all that on you. I said I would get my revenge earlier, didn't I.