Fourteen years
for murder, I
served. The first
three were a Hell
of my own
making. But at
some point, I
learned that if I
didn’t find
a way to live
with it, I’d
kill myself well
before I
got through year four.
So I read
the Bible each
day, and I
committed to
spending what
life I had left
in service.
And a decade
later, they
decided I
had earned my
release. I spent
every day
after making
good on their
belief in me.