Lady Luck(Green Mile fanic re-write)

(Pt.1) THE TWO DEAD GIRLS

EXPLAINING EVERYTHING

AFTER NOT UPDATING FOR A MONTH AND A HALF I LOOKED BACK ON MY FIRST VERSION OF THIS STORY AND I HATED IT, HOW I WROTE IT SO IM RE WRITING IT, YOU KNOW, BETTER WRITING, BETTER GRAMMAR AND ILL BE BASING IT ON THE BOOK SO MORE SCENES TO GET FEELS FOR THE CHARACTERS SO HAVE FUN READING

Y/n willows walked the mile with a variety of cons. she had never encountered someone like John Coffey (Michael Clarke Duncan), a massive man convicted of brutally killing a pair of young sisters. Coffey had the size and strength to kill anyone, but not the demeanor. Beyond his simple, naive nature and a deathly fear of the dark, Coffey seemed to possess a prodigious, supernatural gift. Y/n began to question whether Coffey was truly guilty of murdering the two girls.

I adore this movie, so in honor of this masterpiece I'm goin' to writin' about it.
The reader will be paired with brutus howell, because I love him and i almost had a heart attack when paul said brutus was single.

THE BOOK WILL INCLUDE:
-MENTION RAPE AND MURDER, AND IT WILL BE TALKED ABOUT.
-DEADLY ILLNESS
-INFECTIONS
-BLOOD
-ATTEMPTED MURDER
-VIOLENCE
-INAPPROPRIATE WORDS (ONE OF THEM BEING THE N-WORD)
-ANIMAL ABUSE
-THE MENTIONING OF BROKEN BONES
-PERCY WETMORE

IF ANYTHING YOU JUST READ MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS BOOK.
PLEAS IF ANYTHING YOU READ MADE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE DONT READ THIS BOOK I DONT WANT TO BE BLAMED FOR YOU BEING TRIGGERED

(A lot of things will be the same but wording will be different and a lot of the scenes will be different, REMEMBER IM BASING THIS ON THE BOOK SO IT DEFINITELY WILL BE DIFFERENT. Thank you for reading this and if you want to read the cringe I made before this it is still up so have fun)

AFTER ALL OF THAT ONWARD TO THE STORY!

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The green mile was written by Stephen King all characters belong to Stephen King.
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(PART ONE) THE TWO DEAD GIRLS
(Y/n Willows p.o.v)

This happened in 1932, when the state penitentiary was still at Cold Mountain. And the electric chair was there, too, of course. The inmates made jokes about the chair, the way people always make jokes about things that frighten them but can't be gotten away from. They called it Old Sparky, or the Big Juicy. They made cracks about the power bill, and how Warden Moores would cook his Thanksgiving dinner that fall, with his wife, Melinda, too sick to cook.

But for the ones who actually had to sit down in that chair, the humor went out of the situation in a hurry. I presided over forty-eight executions during my time at Cold Mountain (that's one figure I've never been confused about; I'll remember it on my deathbed), and I think that, for most of those people, the truth of what was happening to them finally hit all the way home when their ankles were being clamped to the stout oak of "Old Sparky's" legs.

The realization came then (you would see it rising in their eyes, a kind of cold dismay) that their own legs had finished their careers. The blood still ran in them, the muscles were still strong, but they were finished, all the same they were never going to walk another country mile or dance with a girl at a barn-raising. Old Sparky's clients came to a knowledge of their deaths from the ankles up. There was a black silk bag that went over their heads after they had finished their rambling and mostly disjointed last remarks. It was supposed to be for them, but I always thought it was really for us, to keep us from seeing the awful tide of dismay in their eyes as they realized they were going to die with their knees bent.