My name is Martina Correia and I am on Death Row in Georgia.

No I have not murdered anybody, never even been on trial. I am on death row because that is where my brother lives.

Death Row has been for me and my family a living nightmare. As the eldest of five children I have always been responsible for protecting my siblings, and I keep wondering what I could have done to go back in time or change past history.

My father died of pure depression and grief, my mother prays and prays and prays and cries and cries and cries. Late night phone calls terrify us, prison visits elate us, and death is always upon us. They say we are on the side of the murderer; we have been treated at times like criminals.

We temporarily lost our place of worship, we lost friends, we lost jobs but we never lost faith or the unconditional love of Troy, my brother.

We became the invisible victims, the tormented, the shamed; we became the enemy of the state.

I once believed in Justice, I don’t anymore. My life is a constant battle, I fight to save my brother, I fight to save myself from cancer, I fight to protect and educate my son and I fight to see my mother smile. It is a terrible thing to know someone you love will be killed, the day, the hour, with years of constant torment and fear.

On death row you see the other families awaiting execution and you don’t know what to say: you wonder if their pain and suffering will be over or just added to.

My greatest fear is that in the judicial system no one really cares and my brother will be killed by the State of Georgia. I look at my son who is old enough to ask the question, “Why do they want to kill my Uncle Troy?” I don’t have a good answer.

I feel at times, it would be better to die of cancer than to live and see my brother executed for a crime he did not commit. I live day to day thinking of death and dying, I think to myself, “What can I do to save Troy?” or even, “Will I be alive to see him walk free?”

My name is Martina and I am on Death Row.