Great Prologue in "Chime"

1
The Trial

I've confessed to everything and I'd like to be hanged.
Now, if you please.
I don't mean to be difficult, but I can't bear to tell my story.
I can't relive those memories—the touch of the Dead Hand,
the smell of eel, the gulp and swallow of the swamp.
How can you possibly think me innocent? Don't let my
face fool you; it tells the worst lies. A girl can have the face
of an angel but have a horrid sort of heart.
I know you believe you're giving me a chance—or, rather,
it's the Chime Child giving me the chance. She's
desperate, of course, not to hang an innocent girl again, but
please believe me: Nothing in my story will absolve me of
guilt. It will only prove what I've already told you, which is
that I'm wicked.
Can't the Chime Child take my word for it?
In any event, where does she expect me to begin? The
story of a wicked girl has no true beginning. I'd have to
begin with the day I was born.
If Eldric were to tell the story, he'd likely begin with
himself, on the day he arrived in the Swampsea. That's
where proper stories begin, don't they, when the handsome
stranger arrives and everything goes wrong?
But this isn't a proper story, and I'm telling you, I ought to
be hanged.