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Rough against the skin of my heart.  Cold, heavy and hard.  This is how my shackles feel.  They weigh me down, they chain me to my past.

Everyday I feel drained, listless and endlessly tired.  My cell is small, damp and lightless.  The rough surface of badly made walls is my closest companion.  Together we witness my heartache, my shame, my guilt.  My name is Sarah and I am trapped in my own mind, trapped by shackles made of guilt and shame.
    I cannot remember how long I’ve been in this tiny, dark space, but it seems to me, to my clouded mind, that it has been eternity.  I long for freedom, for light, for forgiveness, but my self-imposed chains forbid it.  They pull and cut, rub raw my wrists and ankles and leave me drained, without hope.  Plunging into a greater darkness than that of no light, I am depressed.
    This is a knowledge I have held for a long time, yet it does little to help me break free.  Behind me, I have an entire sea of support filled with encouragement, understanding and caring.  However, this sea suffocates me, it drowns me.  I see the smiling faces of friends and family, the care that causes concerned creases to appear on their foreheads, the understanding in their eyes and all I want is for them to leave.  I do not deserve their kindness, I do not deserve their loyalty.  What I deserve is what I have, a dark, dank cell in which to live out my guilt. 
   
Casey was shouting, screaming at me to leave her alone.  Her hoarse voice sounded like that of a very old, very tired, croaking frog.  Tears were streaming down her delicate face, now mottled by rage.  She kept running away from me, tripping and falling.  I called out to her to stop, to wait, but she would not, could not.  I knew she was hurt, hurt beyond what I could explain, but somehow I had to try.  It was, after all, my fault.  I hadn’t meant to do what I did.  My actions had been played out during my own time of trial and suffering.  They had been careless, without thought.  They had been the death of my closest friend.
   
I cried with the pain of reliving those last few moments.  My tears burnt ugly tracks down my face, scarring my innocence. 

Casey was sprinting through the open field of tall grass and wild flowers.  It was a small town we lived in, with lots of farms and fields.  This field had always been our favourite, the flowers bloomed throughout the year and always lent to happy memories.  Running parallel to the east end of the field was the main highway leading to the bigger cities.  Case, as I called her, was running towards the road.  Before reaching it she had to climb over the old wooden fence.  I knew this would be my chance to catch up with her.  Adrenalin helped to speed up my already frantic pace.  Reaching the fence I went to grab Casey’s hand.  Halfway over already, she looked back at me with a hatred that scared me, then pushed me away and fell onto the other side.  Looking back at me one last time, she launched herself away – straight into the path of a quiet running, black Toyota, with no lights on.

It was all my fault.  I knew it.  Every time the memory replayed in my mind, it just reinforced that fact.  That is why I deserve this prison.  It is one fitting for a murderer and a betrayer, two titles that now belong to me. 
    There is a key to my shackles – there always has been one.  It lies in the furthest corner of my cell.  Occasionally I see it lying there, beckoning me, but I will not allow it, I will not allow the monster inside of me to be free.  I have tried, once, but before I got close enough the chains pulled taught and allowed me no further.  I allowed me no further.
    I think back now, to the friendship I shared with Case.  We had known each other for only about a year, yet we were instantly best friends.  Everything we did was comfortable, relaxed.  We shared our deepest secrets, feelings and thoughts.  We were each other’s respective constant in life.  We shared laughter, tears, irritations, worries, concerns and smiles.  Casey’s smile had always been so full of life, caring and happiness.  Her smile is eternally engraved in my mind.  Sometimes it brings me strength and joy, but most times it just serves as a reminder of my guilt and I sink back into the darkness that I know so well.
    Now I’m lying here cold and alone.  The warmth that light would bring is absent.  I am grieving for my friend and for once it is not riddled with feelings of guilt.  It is clean and pure sadness at having lost her.   Opening my eyes, the familiar walls of my room surround me.  This is not my cell, it’s my bedroom, and there, sitting on the edge of the bed is Casey.  She’s smiling, as always, and though I know she’s not real, her presence in my room is overwhelming.  Reaching out an ethereal hand she pulls me into a hug.  “I’m here,” her voice whispers in my head, “I’m here, so come and be with me.” 
    The pain of seeing her drags me back to my cell, but now I know what I need to do.  Slowly, I begin to crawl towards the key.  Contradicting my heart, my chains grow immensely heavy.  Somehow, my mind does not want to let me leave, but my heart will not give up.  Casey is there, in my bedroom, my memories of our fun, laughter and happiness also reside there and I know that’s what she wants me to see and feel again.  I have to go, I have to break free of this prison!  I drag my chains behind me, slowly, struggling with the weight of them. Somehow, this time they do not pull taught, they are not too short.  I reach out my hand, stretching to reach the key.  My fingers graze over it and then grasp it firmly.  I am free!  Free from my shackles of shame.