Today's OneWord: Crook

They call me a crook while I rot behind these bars. They can see the bones threatening to burst through my almost translucent skin. They can hear my breaths getting shorter and rougher as I struggle to push through another day in this hellhole. They must notice how sunken in my eyes have gotten, like rocks disappearing slowly into the grit and mud of a shallow creek bed. And yet there they are, screaming for my murder. I figured they would have eaten their fill of my suffering yet. Guess I'm wrong.