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DISCLAIMER: This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

This is a document written by a prisoner of rape and murder. His name is Harlow A. Robert, and he is sent in solitary confinement. The state of Colorado granted permission for revealing the document that Harlow wrote on October 15, 2005. On that day, a guard gave the prisoner a piece of paper and pencil. The guard said that he can write anything he wants on that paper. This is what he wrote.

I am alone. I am in a white room, with only a bed and a tiny window. Sometimes, in that little window, I see birds in the sky. And the chirps from the birds creates shivers down my spine. I never heard of these noises for a long time. Now, I have a piece of paper right in front of me. I can write a poem, or a hymn, or maybe even an apology letter. But instead, I will write something different.

In this box I am trapped forever inside, I cry with never-ending remorse. Sadly, these cries are inaudible for the world around me. I cry for my errors, my sins, and now, I cry for my son. My son was born the day I was sent to my little box. My son will never see what his father looks like, and I will never get to see what he looks like, or when he first walks and talk. And my wife, Karina Marchand, will never see me again. She will marry someone else, someone better than me.

I pray every night, hoping to be forgiven by the sins that I committed. But every grueling day, I receive nothing. I believe that I have been forgotten, and now what I have done is forever written in the books of history. I don't know what will happen next in my life. I might be sent to capital punishment, I might be here forever till the day I die. All I know is that I am sitting here, on this bed...alone.

As I write my last paragraph on this little tiny piece of paper, I want to write a message to the world. Be careful of what you do. What you do can affect your life in the future. Choose wisely on what you do, because if you do something wrong, you will not get a second chance from anybody. I hope my son chooses his life wisely, because I don't want him to wear the same shoes I'm in. Now, my paper is finished, as I sit in my little room, with nothing but a box and a tiny window...alone.

Harlow died on June 7, 2009 from an ruptured aneurysm from the aorta artery.

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