[ WP ] You have been sentenced to 300 years in prison . The catch is that you are an immortal being .

The sunlight blinded me briefly as my cell door was scraped open by the commanding officer. The whole reason I was thrown in here, forced into multiple life sentences, was because I killed forty people in a slew of serial killings. Only problem? It wasn ’ t me. I didn ’ t kill as much as a fly in my whole life, yet somehow they found my DNA at every crime scene. Somehow, they pinned me for each of the forty murders, and somehow the law failed me. 
 
 He looked on me with a mix of pity and terror surrounding his chiseled face. No one should have to live this long, a fact I was well aware of. I had wished for the sweet embrace of death more than once. To outlive your parents is a fact of life, to outlive your friends a sad coincidence, to outlive your children, a curse. And believe me, I was cursed. I was shoved into this hell three hundred years ago. I don ’ t know why my body won ’ t give up and let me die. I don ’ t know why someone, or something, has cursed me with immortality, but I ’ m pretty sure that ’ s what they ’ ve cursed me with. 
 
 My first twenty years here, both of my parents died. I wasn ’ t allowed to see them, or go to their funeral. I made friends in here, I figured I ’ d probably die here, might as well make some people care about me. 
 
 Another five years, and I would see the death of my closest friend, stabbed. I would also see the death of my husband. Death surrounded me in all the wrong places, so I started picking fights. I was trying to die. 
 
 After I was thrown into solitary for the tenth time in a month, I tried to kill myself. Shivs, blankets tied into nooses, anything that was slightly threatening that could kill me. None of it worked. Either something failed, someone saved me, or I just woke up the next morning. I prayed to die. 
 
 In another twenty five years, my oldest son would die at a measly 65. Again, denied the ability to go to his funeral. He spent his entire life slaving over getting me out of prison, to prove my innocence. I was 90 when he passed. I looked too young to be 90. I looked 40, the age I was when I was incarcerated. Or was I 100 when he passed? Did I get in here at 40, or 38? I can ’ t even remember the specifics, it ’ s been so long. 
 
 Within another twenty years, my entire family would be gone, save my grandchildren. But they didn ’ t know who I was, they just knew that their mother or father went out to visit someone every once in a while. My remaining children resented me, as they saw what their older brother turned into because of me. They still visited me, but one by one, they were gone. Sam, my third, died last. He left me with a haunting message. 
 
 “ You killed them all, and then you killed all of us. You deserve a punishment much worse than what you have right now, this immortality bullshit. ” 
 
 And the rest is a blur. After that, I remember outliving so many officers, so many inmates, but never dying myself. And I knew that I would never get out. 
 The commanding officer scanned my body, mouth agape. He always did this, in awe of my 340 ( give or take ) year old body. I still held the physique of my twenty year old self, I was told. Even after five children, I apparently looked the same. He was at a loss for words. This was unusual. He was the chatty one, I thought. He cleared his throat. 
 
 “ Yes? ” I questioned. He didn ’ t have food, and I didn ’ t have a complaint… so…? 
 
 He cleared his throat again. “ You ’ re. Um, you ’ re being released. Today. Now. They uh, they looked into your case. Again- overcrowding, you know? We can ’ t exactly just expand the prison, now can we? ” He chuckled nervously at his own joke. His muscles rippled under his shirt as he moved his arms. For such a fit man, he sure was awkward. He cleared his throat once more, and stood up a little taller. “ So you ’ re being released. Gather your things, ” he looked around my empty cell, “ and uh, let ’ s, um, go. ” 
 
 “ Excuse me? ” This was some sick joke. After 300 years, my case was ‘ looked over ’ again and now I ’ m being released? I don ’ t think so. 
 
 “ You ’ re being released- “ 
 
 “ Okay, and you have wings. I ’ m glad we ’ re both naming absurd things. ” 
 
 “ No… you ’ re really being released. The press is having a field day. ” He paused, scanning my shocked expression. Suddenly, he pulled his phone from a back pocket. He clicked on a few things, and a hologram appeared, broadcasting channel 4 news. 
 
 A perky reporter was standing outside of a prison, this prison, as I soon figured out. “ As you can see, the prison is preparing for its longest held inmate to be released, after 300 years. On account of newly found evidence, she has been proven innocent, and is being released promptly. It turns out there was a mistake at the lab, which resulted in her trial, and then her incarceration. She is a marvel to medics- “ 
 
 “ See? ” he gruffly questioned. “ She ’ s right out there, right now. So come on. ” 
 
 I took a deep breath. Was this finally it? After three hundred years in this hell- was I finally being brought to justice? I think so. 
 
 I rose from my bed, and was escorted through the entire prison; my cell was at the very back, where no one dared bother me, and then to the front door. An officer shoved my belongings into my hands. Memories flooded back. I felt happiness, sadness, regret, nostalgia- but I was feeling again. Tears rushed to my eyes. I could see the outside world again. I walked out of the front door, and felt something hit my head. I saw the shock on all the people ’ s faces around me, and 
 
 I felt my body falling to the pavement. Something told me that my wish was finally granted… 
 
 And for the split second before my death, I could almost smell the daisies growing outside of the prison.
