because I could barely feel my legs. I was visibly shaking. We were in the building now, heading toward the cells. What was going to happen to me? As I said before, Mr. Whittenberg gets creative with his punishments, and I had never seen this one before. He turned around, grabbed me, and shoved me into my cell. I almost stopped breathing when I got in there. There was a wretched gas pouring out of a silver canister and it was making my eyes burn. They started to tear up. Pain surged through my body, not just my eyes. Right before the ear-splitting alarms started, I heard the cell door slam shut. I was trapped. I cannot write anymore tonight. I can’ t bear to think of it any longer.
July 2, 1932- I’ m sorry I had to split up my story. That day hurt me physically and emotionally so I don’ t like to talk about it but I hope that someday everyone can know what goes on in these prison camps. As I left off, I was trapped. The tear gas was hurting my throat and eyes now, and my ears felt as if they were bleeding. With my eyes closed to keep out the gas, I stumbled until I hit a wall. Then I followed the wall until I hit a corner. The corner was the spot I would wait until this torture was over. I hunched over to shield myself, but I knew this experience was long from done. With my head in my knees, I used my arms to try and seal off all openings. This next part was a big mistake but I then tried to open my eyes. I had to shut them right away again though because the tear gas was everywhere in the room. Pure agony is what I felt. Agony and hatred towards white people for treating us like this. Why do they think they are better than us? Some of us are nice people but they’ d never know because they don’ t give us a chance. I didn’ t get a chance to defend myself at my trial. I didn’ t get a chance to do many things. This angered me as I was thinking. I won’ t get the chance if I die in this room today. It felt like this gas and sirens had been going on for long, grueling hours. Maybe they forgot about me in here. If that is so, they won’ t give me a chance to live. So right then and there, I decided I would do everything in my power to survive. The white people shouldn’ t be able to push us around because of our skin. I made a deal with myself that I would do work and more work until I got out of this place. I would die a free man. I would not let them take me. This will not be my final stand. I will live and be good and never complain about how Stacey wouldn’ t give me the test answers, never lie about my little brother going to the Wallace store so he gets a whipping, and do all in my power to make it up to the people I hurt. I now have been thinking for so long that I know it has been hours. I finally hear the lock click and I slowly look up into the dark eyes of Mr. Whittenberg. I want to change the person I was before. Here comes the rest of my life.