I am not and have never claimed to be a good person. However, I don't deserve to be sitting on death row for a murder I did not commit. Not just one, but nearly a dozen murders I did not commit.

My mental health is gone, it's vanished with my reputation and livelihood. The only thing left for me to hold onto is this all consuming hate. Hate for the justice system for allowing me to end up in this situation. Hate for Lyra for leaving me here to die. Most intensely, hate for Brexton who I strongly believe got away with multiple murders and my girl.

Being in an isolated prison cell for two months is a sure way to a psychiatric disorder. Apparently, I'm now labeled as a man with bipolar 1 disorder in the midst of a psychotic break.

Today, I'm a man with bipolar 1 disorder in the midst of a psychotic break escaping prison.

My will is far too strong to let myself die for a crime that I'm not guilty of. If I'm going to be labeled as a murderer, I'm going to make myself fit the label. That's first on my agenda when I get out of here, I'm going to kill Brexton McGomery.

Escaping prison is no easy feat. It's even harder when you're in isolation. However, I've been making good use of my time. My days consist of thinking, plotting, observing. I pay attention during what little human interaction I get. I've noticed what staff are more careless and I've pieced together the pattern of when they're working. The most careless crew is on tonight, which means my plan is on tonight. It's time I take my life back into my own hands.

As much as I'd like my first murder to be Brexton, I am going to have to shed some blood in order to leave this place. I only have one shot at freedom and I will not waste it by allowing myself to feel guilt. Nobody cared when I screamed my innocence at the top of my lungs so why should I care when they die a death they don't deserve?

I find myself pacing to keep up with my thoughts. Any moment now I am going to take the biggest risk I've ever taken. That's what people don't realize about those of us on death row, we have nothing to lose. That fact makes us a huge threat.

Halfway through my 30th lap around my cell, I hear keys jingling in my cell's lock.

It's time.

Step one of breaking out of prison: get a gun.

The security guard who is far too old and far too kind to be a security guard, walks in with my breakfast tray.

"Breakfast." He says as he walks in and sits the tray beside my hard as a rock bed. He's not supposed to come into the cell to deliver the tray, the rest of the guards slide it through the door. This works out well for me though, I need to him close enough for me to grab his gun.

"Thanks." I mumble as I pretend to head towards it. When his back is turned and he's about to walk out of the cell, I charge him and grab his gun out of his belt.

"Help!" He yells for assistance the second he notices what I've done.

Step two of breaking out of prison: hurt yourself badly enough to get sent to the hospital.

I have no time to hesitate. I grab the gun and shoot myself in the chest. I sigh as I fall to the ground. The pain feels so good I can't help but smile.

Panicked voices and lights brighter than I remember are the last things I notice before I lose consciousness.

When I wake up, I'm in an extremely comfortable hospital bed, attached to multiple loudly beeping machines. If I weren't in such a rush, I'd lay in this bed for days. I've almost forgotten what it's like to sleep comfortably, to feel human.

My one arm is handcuffed to the bed railing. They must've decided to give me a little more freedom since I'm sleeping. Or more likely, they've only tied one of my arms because they foolishly believe I'm too weak to try anything. Little do they know, you're never too tired to fight for your life.

The two police officers sitting on either side of me are staring into the distance, seeming not to notice I've awoken.

The exact person I need, walks in the room. A gorgeous blonde nurse with kind eyes and no wedding ring. Good thing I've always had a thing for nurses. Even though she doesn't look like Lyra, the scrubs and stethoscope she's wearing remind me of my ex. Which makes it a lot easier to use her.

Step three of breaking out of prison: make a connection with the right person.

The nurse's eyes give away her shock at seeing me staring back at her. "You're awake!"

I grin. "Am I? Or am I in heaven looking at an angel?"

She giggles and waves a hand dismissively. "How are you feeling?"

I put on a scene as I try to sit up, groaning and scrunching my face up painfully. "Probably better than I should considering the circumstances."

She nods slowly, biting her lip in a silent debate with herself. She's not sure whether she should come over and help me sit up or keep a safe distance.

"Yeah, I actually wanted to ask you about that. Can you help me understand why you did what you did?"

I smirk, thrilled to have the opportunity to play Brexton. The irony is almost too much to bear. "I couldn't take it anymore. I've been locked up in a prison cell while a serial killer is running around claiming more victims. I haven't been alive in a long time."

Her eyes glimmer, I can see tears threatening to fall. "I can see how that would be difficult."

"You have no idea."

The officers shuffle, unsure of how to react to me. I notice their guns. I'll need one of those.

I spend hours acting in pain, pretending to cry and flirting with the pretty nurse until she tells me she has to leave for the night.

By then, she's comfortable enough to get a little closer to me. When she goes to connect me to a vital machine (which requires my restraint to be temporarily removed), I grab her wrist. I yank her into me and wrap my arm around her neck.

The police officers draw their guns then hesitate when they process the fact that she is blocking their shot of me.

Step four of breaking out of jail: threaten to kill your connection.

The nurse's innocent eyes stare back at me. She silently pleads with me to let her go.

Maybe if she didn't remind me so much of Lyra, I would've.

"Drop your guns." I tighten my grip on her neck, choking her. She gurgles and struggles against my hold. "Or she dies."

Without any hesitation, both guards drop their guns.

Step five of breaking out of jail: get leverage and weapons.

I push into her back and walk her to the guns. "Grab them."

"Please." She says through strangled breaths.

I loosen my grip just enough for her to get some air. "GRAB THEM!" I yell.

She does as she's told and hands me both guns, one at a time. I hold one to her head and the second one stays tightly in my other hand.

One of the officers makes an attempt to lunge at me, I shoot him in the head in response.

The nurse screams and starts crying.

The other officer lifts his hands in the air in surrender. I decide to shoot him too, I can't risk him radioing his cop buddies.

I make my way through the building in a similar fashion, shooting anyone who tries to intervene.

Final step to escaping prison, have somewhere to go.

I had a friend who owes me a favor book me two tickets to Lyra's hometown.

Hope Lyra's got room for two more.