My Sisters Keeper

1

NOMONDE 

I've walked down these corridors for what feels like a zillion times now. I dont know why I still do it when I already know the outcome that's waiting for me at the end of this line, I know I'll still be stuck in here, I know I'll spend months or years before I can even try again. This is my fifth attempt at trying to get parole, and this will probably be my fifth rejection.

I've sat in front of the parole board and told them why I think I deserve parole, why I think I deserve to go out to the world as a free woman and raise my daughter. The last time I held her in my arms she was barely a year old, and today she is blossoming into a young woman, and it pains me to see her pictures and know i had nothing to do with the woman that she is becoming. My mother has done an amazing job raising her, but the guilt of leaving her with such a responsibility still pains me.

I sit on the cold benches waiting for my turn to go in and "perform" like a circus monkey, telling people why I deserve my freedom. Truth is I'm tired of it, but I need to clear my name, and I sure as hell cant do that in here. As long as I am in here I will always be the girl who tried to kill her husband, and no matter how many times I scream I'm innocent no one will ever believe me until there is concrete evidence. And for as long as I am in here, that will always be just a theory.

Shelley walks out of the office with a smile on her face, maybe things went good in there, hopefully the board is in a good mood today. But then again Shelley always has a smile on her face no matter how she feels. It's one thing I've learned about her while I've been  in here, she keeps her smile on through anything and everything, and that pisses a lot of people off cause even when they try to hurt her they never know if it's working or not.

She winks and walks past me going back to our cell. I've shared the same cell with her since she got here five years ago. To this day no one knows why she is in here. There are plenty of theories going around though. Some think she is here because she killed her abusive boyfriend, others say she put a knife on the neck of someone trying to rape her,and our justice system being the mess that it is she's the one who ended up in here, truth is though no one knows, not even the officers, the best they could tell us was that she was transferred from Cape Town. I've stopped trying to get the truth out of her.

"Its time." An officer says poking her head out from the door. I get up and follow her into the office. She shows me where to sit and I do as instructed. I sit down and look at the eight people looking at me with judgement filled eyes. One thing I've learned over the years is to look at their eyes and I would know if there is hope or i should just give up. I look at each of them and it's the same look as all the other years. At this point I'm not sure if it's because they really dont believe i deserve a second chance or it's because of how high profile my case was.

"Miss Mashile, tell us why you think you deserve parole?" One voice seeps into my zoned out mind. I shake my head a bit trying to get all my attention back to this moment before me. I take a deep breath and try to find the right words to say, I don't want to repeat the same words I have said before because that would just be useless.

"Well, truth is, I could give you a thousand reasons why I believe I deserve parole but it wont matter, you'll still deny my request anyway." I say looking down at my clasped hands. I look up and find them all staring at me.

"Can you read minds Miss Mashile? We didn't know we had an extraordinary being in front of us." One of the men says with his husky voice. I'm not sure if he is pissed or irritated but whatever it is, I know its not good. I turn my eyes to look at him, trying to show him that I am not really scared of him and I am standing by my statement.