Ch.1 The memories materialized slowly like mist clearing away on a winter morning. Mayella Ewell. I woke up from a nightmare, sweating and cold. I abruptly sat up from the cold slab of rock otherwise known as my bed in jail. The painful look on my wife’s face was devastating as she first heard about the incident between Mayella and I. It’s a look I’ll never forget. It may as well be my very last glimpse of her before my end comes. Tears were streaming down her face while she held onto me tightly for the last time, repeatedly saying It’ll be okay. Mayella Ewell… the cause of this whole trial. This mess started with a kiss. I wasn’t the one who initiated it, Mayella did. The white daughter of a farmer kissed me, a black. There was an unspoken …show more content…
One day, I was dumped in this cell because Mr. Ewell claimed that I had raped and beaten his daughter. That was nearly impossible because of my arm that was caught in a cotton gin. Therefore, I only had one good arm-my right arm. Why were people so against my kind? I thoroughly cursed about how much I hated being black and how I wished I wasn’t one. Sighing to myself, I leaned back down until my back touched the somewhat comforting bed. On the other side of the jail, I heard the creaking of a chair and the soft breathing of Mr. Finch after his two children showed up, making the lynch mob leave. Mr. Finch was my lawyer for the trial in a couple of weeks that determined if I was guilty or not. Sadly, all African-American’s in Maycomb were condemned guilty even though some were innocent. Although I was very grateful for Mr. Finch, I knew I had 0% of getting out of this case alive after all, all white people are “supposedly” better than us black African-Americans. Mr. Finch guarded the jail cell most of the night. After hearing Mr. Finch’s reassuring voice that the mob had gone, I told Mr. Finch to go home and get some sleep. For the first time after the incident, I slept without concern, knowing that Mr. Finch was going to do his