Solitary Refinement Chapter 28

Dearest Elizabeth April 20th 2018

Liz I don’t have a lot of time. This could be the last letter I send. Last night my cell mate tried to attack me, I managed to keep him at bay but he went to bed with a warning for me. He’s coming for me soon Elizabeth, I don’t know if I can defend myself or escape again. Kal is huge and strong and we are locked in a cage together every night. Guards don’t listen, will you?

I’ll do what I can to survive, I’ll do what I have to do to survive. I want to come home to you one day, it’s all I want. Sometimes I dream about waking up to go to work and it’s bittersweet when I have to kiss you goodbye, but at least you’re there. At least we’re together.

I love you Liz, I always have and I always will. I once believed you loved me too, lately I’ve doubted that. Please disprove my doubts, come visit me. Tell me you love me and miss me too. Tell me some excuse about why you haven’t written, I don’t care I’ll believe it I just want to see your face. If you’ve ever loved me come see me now. Do you remember that cave I told you about? The one in the woods that I’ve always been scared of? Well I feel like I see the entrance in my own eyes every time I walk by a mirror. Like I’m always standing at the mouth of it, not being able to see into it but hearing the scraping noises of something coming my way. That kind of terror is what I’m living with right now. I have a terrible fear that this could be goodbye. I really don’t know what might happen over the next few days.

Sincerely,

Your Husband.

A.N. Getting closer to the end! Would love some reviews, I totally thrive on criticism. Shoot me a line and let me know what you think :D.

Solitary Refinement Chapter 27

Dear Joshua April 20th 2018

Woke up this morning and saw the cave in my eyes. Do you remember that cave in the forest I told you I was scared of? I just get the feeling that the blacks of my eyes in the mirror look like the entrance to that place. It’s weird I know but I get really freaked out looking into the mirror. Especially today of all days, after a night like last.

I heard Kal speak finally. His voice was surprisingly high, and it bothered me all the more. Just like how his glasses didn’t seem to fit the rest of him his voice was the same. Like he’s some sort of combination of characteristics designed to make me uneasy.

“It’s cold tonight, I’m going to come up to your bed for some warmth.” He said it so matter of factly, not threatening or with his voice raised at all. I tried to tell a guard like you’ve been suggesting all along but he just told me to get to bed, didn’t really listen at all. Then it was lights out. About thirty minutes after the lights shut off and I’d started to hear snores coming from around the cell block, I heard the creak of Kal climbing the bunk. I had my knife in hand and swung it at him. I missed but he saw the glint of the blade in the moonlight coming in through the window. He simply climbed back down and got into his bed.

Then, once he was settled he whispered loud enough only for me to hear, “I’m going to get you, you know. That broken little knife won’t keep you safe long. I’m going to gag you and do what I want, you can’t stop me and you know it. Nobody will hear your screaming.”

Joshua what can I do? The guards have already shown they don’t really care. So who is there to trust that can help me? Trevor can protect me in the day, but after lights out and we all need to be in bed? I don’t need to be indebted to him anymore than I am already anyways. It may just come to what I feared. I know I swung at him today but I think even I knew I wouldn’t really hurt him, I just was hoping it would make him think twice. Seems it’s just made him enraged. I may have to really do it, I might have to really kill him.

Please tell me you see a way out of this.

A.N. There’s not very many chapters left in this. It’s been a journey but we’re near the end. I’d love some feedback or reviews. My ask box is open in case you’d like to do it anonymous style.

vagabondprophet:

Insurance

I am the .1 percent

Can’t be disinfected

I’m the tsunami

That can’t be detected

And for the house fire

That can’t be expected

They say insurance,

Get insurance

But insurance is just paper

You scribbled all over

Saying you’ll get money

When your world is over

Money’s just paper

And paper starts fires

This just complicates

And stirs in me a fire

So now you understand

I hope it’s all clear

If you lose everything

That you hold dear

Your paper won’t help you

I won’t be held liable

When I take your life

Like something easily pliable

Because I’m

About

to snap.

vagabondprophet:

Talking to Myself

If I write you a thousand words

Will you see the picture?

Of me alone and wanting you.

If I write ten thousand words

Will you receive the comic strip?

A scene, a day in the life, lacking the warm touch of your breath.

Or maybe this

Won’t work that way

Maybe I’m just

Talking to myself

First tendrils of madness

Soaking in like butter

On warm bread.

It tickles.

vagabondprophet:

Discarded

To dive headlong

Into the ravine

The vee cut neckline

Plunging into the bosom

Of mother nature herself

To die of despair

A pendulum in the air

To swallow handfuls of madness

To dull the crowding sadness

All of these deaths I abhor

But cruelest yet

Is that you ignore

Not a glance, whisper, or touch.

Discarded

Like coupons from a store

You no longer frequent.

Solitary Refinement Chapter 26

Dear Joshua April 15th 2018

I hear what you’re saying and I appreciate that you’re concerned about my safety and that you want to help me take care of the other things dear to my heart. I really do. I just can’t do that though, I can’t talk to anybody about Kal or Trevor and if I know Liz at all if I trouble her with legal garbage than any chance I have of mending things is gone for sure. I just have to hope that at some point the last drop of water will flow under the bridge and she will miss me enough to come by with the kids. With Kal and Trevor though that’s a whole different animal. Let me put this plainly, if I complain that Trevor has threatened me and that I feel threatened by Kal I may be killed. Trevor has friends in high places so I can’t really trust any of the authorities I may complain to, and even if I complain about Kal I don’t want to have that conversation with Trevor when he says something like, “So I heard you don’t think I can keep you safe, well let’s see how who you do on your own.” It’s just, it’s all bad. Thanks for trying to help but this is one of those things that rests squarely on my shoulders.

Yesterday I accidentally broke the tip off of a knife in my cooking class when I was trying to filet a fish and I bent the blade too far trying to get between the skin and the meat. The teacher told me to put the knife in the garbage and get another. I nodded, and pocketed it.

Joshua, please understand me. That was the most terrifying moment of my existence. Not proposing to Liz worried she would say no, not the complicated births of our children, not all the times I had to skulk back home and tell her I was out of work again. This was even more terrifying than that time we were hiking and I slipped on some gravel and almost tumbled down a cliffside, or the time I was driving my car and got hit by a snow plow.

It was a simple enough thing to do that I’m sure nobody noticed, but it was like in that moment I made the decision that I will kill somebody if I think I need to. Like I’m a murderer at heart just waiting for a life to take and nobody else knows it yet. Having finally passed that check mark of morality, that under the right circumstances I’ve decided I will stab somebody to death, I really didn’t feel good about myself in that moment but I also felt like I kind of had to. I also felt a strange sense of power that I wasn’t entirely comfortable with. The means and resolve to kill is not something that sits well with me but I need to get back to my family one day and that means I need to survive prison. I tried to stay under the radar, I tried not to make enemies but I have them anyways.

I didn’t worry about Kal sleeping beneath me as much last night while I lay there with my white knuckled grip on the knives plastic grip. I actually slept a bit myself. My God did I need that. You don’t have kids so I can’t compare my exhaustion to you with even that. When your tired taking care of kids it’s a happy kind of tired. Yeah your sweaty and dirty from playing with them at the park and cleaning up after them in every imaginable way, but it’s your children and you’d do anything for them. The weariness that comes with fearing for your life is so completely different, always checking over your shoulder. Every time I’m standing outside and I feel the wind on my neck I’m filled with dread that I’ll turn around to see Kal pushing me down to do something horrible. Relentless panic is a horrible thing and I hope you never experience it. Maybe animals really can smell fear.

Do you think anybody else here feels the way I do?

Solitary Refinement Chapter 25

Dear Joshua April 3rd 2018

Hey Josh, I think I’m ready to talk to you again I just need to set something straight. Don’t talk bad about my wife. I get it, you see your friend being treated badly by his own wife and you want to say something about it and from your position I can see how you can see it’s not a ridiculous thing to wonder about. I just, I know she wouldn’t do that. If I let my mind wander that way I know that I’ll go crazy. I can’t take it to lose the hope of having my family back again one day.

So I got confirmation that I’m definitely not overreacting by being freaked out by Kal, just the other day I saw one of the guards that I hadn’t seen in a long time tell me he’d be worried if he was me. He said Kal’s cellmates never last this long and that Kal must be getting frustrated, said to be careful and watch my back. It seems as though the guards can’t do anything about behaviour like Kal’s though, until he actually does something to me and I make an official complaint they can’t move me or him or anything like that. How wonderful it is to have my fears confirmed and then be told that there is no solution available to me. I’m so freaking done, every morning I look in the mirror and I see a frightened pair of eyes in a weary body.

When I’m not working in the kitchen I’ve been in the library here, I just realized they had one recently. I used to like reading as a kid but as an adult after work and playing with the kids I always felt too tired to read and would fall asleep shortly after ever picking a book up. Now since I can barely sleep anyways I am actually able to read again. They have a few poetry books that I am enjoying, reading over and over as much as I can in the few minutes I have to spare. I love novels, but poetry is different. I’m learning lots of new words from them that I have to look up in the dictionary. It’s just so interesting that the pain and suffering of these poets chose to manifest itself in such beautiful ways. It helps me feel even though I’m going through this terrible season in my life, it can maybe just maybe mean something to somebody.

Solitary Refinement Chapter 24

Dear Diary March 27th 2018

I really noticed my eyes today, I think for maybe the first time ever, or at least since I got in here. Bloodshot, wide gaze, icy blue with not enough pupil. I always liked my eyes, I thought they made me look good, girls like blue eyes right? I saw more than that though, I saw deeper, I saw fear and a panic just barely undercover.

I remember when I was a kid and I’d go for walks through the forest there was this cave my dad always told me to stay away from. It had a wide mouth but you could see the path quickly narrowed, and after a bend it turned pitch black. I never went into it, always curious, but for the warnings I never satisfied that curiosity. My dad never told me what was in there, I asked him he must not have known either. He would always just say some basic dad advice about how you don’t go into the dark unprepared.

Even once I was an adult I never went in there, it’s fostered in me a fear of the dark and what beasts there lurk. Even well into my teens I had nightmares of something coming out of the cave at night, all I could ever see was long claws and glowing eyes. I always hid and it always knew where to find me. I would be snatched by a grip so strong it was like iron, and as I screamed it would pull me turn after turn into the cave. I always woke up screaming and right at the point where the blackness was becoming complete. That was the worst part, that even in my dreams I couldn’t find out what was in there, I just knew that it meant me harm and I couldn’t escape it. Just a vicious blackness, a hungry chasm, a sinister darkness. Something to be feared for sure but having no name for it made it worse I found.

In the mirror this morning I saw the entrance to that cave in my eyes. The thin bloodshot veins leading to the pupil like the roots of trees that stopped before that hellish corridor. No wonder I’ve been afraid lately, I’ve got fear itself living right inside my head. How fitting that it should find a way to colour everything I look at with its hazy hue and awful whispers in my ear. Even when I’ve been so far removed from that forest, all the worst things come with you into prison.

I think it was one of the presidents that said something like, “There is nothing to fear except fear itself.” Okay, wise words to be sure. Not exactly comforting if you see fear itself in the mirror though. I don’t think I’ll be able to forget the cave now that I’ve seen it. What option now but to live in fear? Or go boldly and explore the cave with torches and pitchforks. Only if the entrance to the cave is inside myself, is the beast then also?

Solitary Refinement Chapter 23

vagabondprophet:

Dearest Elizabeth March 20th 2018

I love you. I’ve been wanting to say that again for a while. I couldn’t wait any longer to write you, I tried. I just couldn’t do it. I needed to say it, but to be honest it’s never been as nerve wracking or scary to say that. For the first time in years I was worried that you might not actually feel that way about me anymore. In three short months I will have been here for a full year and I haven’t heard a single word from you, all I’ve gotten from you is my own parcels returned back to me.

Do you have any idea what this is doing to me? Do you remember right after we had started dating I had just got that lousy car? The one that was way louder than it should have been and had a key broken off in the drivers door so I always had to unlock your side first? I wanted to see what the gas gauge looked like when it actually went empty because it’s different in every car, sometimes above the red line sometimes below it remember like I told you? That one day I was driving you to work and I finally ran out of gas and I had forgotten to put some back up gas in the jerry can and you were late by thirty minutes.

I feel something like that car must have felt, like you’re just waiting to see how much of this torture I can take before I finally give up and die. I just want to hear from you. Could you do that, I need to know if you’re safe and alive and happy with the kids. It must be hard with the kids alone, but I promise you there’s no way it’s as bad as being alone without them. I am beyond confusion, like I understood that you would be mad at me that I wound up in prison because of my stupidity but that was nine months ago. No change in heart or missing waking up to me? Just tell me something simple, like how it’s a drag to have to take the garbage out yourself or something like that, I know you hated that. Or how you have to figure out how to make coffee for yourself. Just talk to me for goodness sake, I really need it, I need something to look forward to. If I knew I might be receiving letters from you it would make waking up above my awful cellmate a little less awful. I love you, but I’m kind of losing hope here. Don’t you want your children to speak to their father? I just don’t get it, help me understand.

Sincerely,

Your Husband.

A.N. This isn’t going to go on a whole lot longer. I hope people are enjoying it. Reviews would be lovely.

Solitary Refinement Chapter 23

vagabondprophet:

Dearest Elizabeth March 20th 2018

I love you. I’ve been wanting to say that again for a while. I couldn’t wait any longer to write you, I tried. I just couldn’t do it. I needed to say it, but to be honest it’s never been as nerve wracking or scary to say that. For the first time in years I was worried that you might not actually feel that way about me anymore. In three short months I will have been here for a full year and I haven’t heard a single word from you, all I’ve gotten from you is my own parcels returned back to me.

Do you have any idea what this is doing to me? Do you remember right after we had started dating I had just got that lousy car? The one that was way louder than it should have been and had a key broken off in the drivers door so I always had to unlock your side first? I wanted to see what the gas gauge looked like when it actually went empty because it’s different in every car, sometimes above the red line sometimes below it remember like I told you? That one day I was driving you to work and I finally ran out of gas and I had forgotten to put some back up gas in the jerry can and you were late by thirty minutes.

I feel something like that car must have felt, like you’re just waiting to see how much of this torture I can take before I finally give up and die. I just want to hear from you. Could you do that, I need to know if you’re safe and alive and happy with the kids. It must be hard with the kids alone, but I promise you there’s no way it’s as bad as being alone without them. I am beyond confusion, like I understood that you would be mad at me that I wound up in prison because of my stupidity but that was nine months ago. No change in heart or missing waking up to me? Just tell me something simple, like how it’s a drag to have to take the garbage out yourself or something like that, I know you hated that. Or how you have to figure out how to make coffee for yourself. Just talk to me for goodness sake, I really need it, I need something to look forward to. If I knew I might be receiving letters from you it would make waking up above my awful cellmate a little less awful. I love you, but I’m kind of losing hope here. Don’t you want your children to speak to their father? I just don’t get it, help me understand.

Sincerely,

Your Husband.

A.N. This isn’t going to go on a whole lot longer. I hope people are enjoying it. Reviews would be lovely.