Here, I’m the hero. Centre stage, righting wrongs, never left behind. No grey areas, just absolutes. Good. Bad. Lies. Truth. Their differences never misunderstood.
Blinking into waking life, I acclimatise to bright sunlight. The sunbeam’s broken, blocked by bars, keyboard shadows thrown across my eyes. The strips match the stripes I wear on the outside.
On the wall, a reminder of lost lives in a newspaper headline.
SISTER KILLED IN CAR CRASH.
My memories are in full colour.