I was beyond exhilarated at being released from my bullshit prison sentence. Prison had been hell ninety percent of the time, a relentless grind that wore at your soul until every ounce of hope felt like a distant memory. The walls were gray, the air stale, the routines suffocating, and the people… well, some were monsters hiding behind institutional rules.
The only real highlight had been my cellmate, Ryland—the one who always carried a Bible wherever he went, as if it were a lifeline in a world that had forgotten mercy. He had a quiet strength about him, a patience that made the worst days slightly more bearable. I’d often found myself leaning on him, absorbing his calm like a shield against the chaos surrounding us.
I wished he could have spent Thanksgiving with us, breaking bread
