Accused of murder

The cold wind sends shivers down my spine. It is night and I am curled up in a corner of my cell although there is a bed. Prisons in Denmark are way better than prisons in other countries, but it's still cold and humid. I have a bed on one side of the wall. It is not a comfortable one, but it does the job. Beside the bed there is a metal desk nailed to the floor and a toilet. All those surrounded by walls of concrete. This cell has been my home for almost four years now. I have no one outside these walls. No home to get to, no family, no friends and needles to say no husband. Not since my entire family got k****d. My parents, my big sister and my little brother. All on the same day. And if that was not enough my ex-fiancé’s family that were with them also got k****d. His parents and two of his big brothers. Oh, and the k****r was me. Or so I have been told.   FLASHBACK   “Where is he? We’re going to be so late... Oh my god my mother is going to kill me.” I talk out loud. look in the mirror, my hands are shaking. I am so nervous about today. I am looking in the mirror and it is the first time I noticed what the makeup artist have done to my face. It is the first time I have makeup on, I have extremely strict parents and we are not allowed to wear makeup before our wedding day. I see a pair of nervous brown eyes looking back at me from the mirror. She did not overdo the makeup, it was subtle but highlighted my eyes with a little bit of eyeliner that winged a little, my cheekbones which she has countered to perfection and gave my lips a subtle peachy/pink color. I tried to smile to the mirror, and it made my dimples show. I have not seen my face like this before. I sit down on a velvet chair with a dusty rose color and adjust my wedding dress so it would not look messy. I want this day to be perfect or at least a good day, where everyone can be happy. I can feel my head getting heavier as I drift off to sleep several minutes later. ***1 hour later*** BANG!! I jump in my seat covered in sweat; my head is throbbing. I am wide awake although a bit dizzy. What is going on? I blink with my eyes, but the fake lashes feel so heavy. I look up at 7 policemen, all pointing a gun on me with an extremely aggressive look on their faces. Two of them lower their guns and hurries up to me; they grab an arm each and force me to the ground as they handcuff me. “You’re not that smart are you” I heard one of them say sarcastically. My cheek is pressed on the floor, and I feel something wet. The floor is wet, why is the floor wet? I try to say something to ask them what is going on but as I try to open my mouth, I taste something metallic. What is this? I am so scared and frightened; I begin to cry, tears pouring out of my eyes. “You are under arrest on the suspension of second-degree m****r. You have the right to remain silent and refuse to answer questions. Anything you say may be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to consult an attorney before speaking to the police and to have an attorney present during questioning now or in the future.” Is this a nightmare, why does it feel so real? As they lift me up from the floor, I finally get a look on my wedding dress and the floor. It is covered in something red. Is this b***d? No, no, NO it cannot be. Oh, dear god it is. I realize it as I see a g*n near my feet. I scream my lungs out before I pass out.  END OF FLASHBACK It took me a while to accept my situation, accept that no one was there to save me. No one to tell them I was innocent. I kept telling them and even the lawyer that was assigned to me, that I did not do it, that I was innocent. But no one took me seriously, cause why would anyone admit a crime. And it did not help when I could not give them an answer to how else I was covered in their b***d, why the g*n was beside me on the floor, the one that was used to k*ll them, his family and mine. And why I was the only one survivor if it really was how, I said it - that I was innocent. All the evidence lined up and honestly, who could argue with that. My ex-fiancé Sicario was never a suspect. He was flying in from Spain at the time, and was late to pick me up, because the flight got delayed. He landed in Denmark about 15 minutes before I was arrested. I have not seen or heard from him since our engagement party two weeks before the supposed wedding. I could never figure out why he did not even try to contact me, to tell them that I was not capable of doing something like this. After a while I had to realize that I was alone in this, I literally had no one. Everyone thought that I was forced to get married and then got revenge in the most gruesome way to get out of it. But really; it did not make any sense because if that were the case then wouldn’t I at least have tried to run before getting caught? The worst of it all is that I did not have any alibi. All I could say was that I fell asleep, and even I can hear how fake it sounded. Right before I nodded off, the room was beautiful, my dress was beautiful.Everything was perfect. How on earth was I and the room covered in bl**d within an hour without me waking up and noticing? I could not wrap my head around it and day by day, I gave up. I became a zombie, doing what I was told. The one thing though that I refused to do was to plead guilty, no one could take that away from me. I would never admit to doing something this horrible and to my own family nonetheless. Every night for the past four years I would curl myself in bed and cry myself to sleep, but it had to be quiet though, because there was no room for crying in prison and you would be punished if you made a sound after 10 pm. Both the inmates and the guards frightened me. I was scared and did not wish to offend anyone. not after the first three months in here. It taught never to show weakness. I let my anxiety come to life at night. When the lights went out my whole body would begin to shake uncontrollably by fear, I would curl up on the bed and let the tears stream out of my eyes, until I somehow fell asleep…