300 Letters - 14. Letter 13

30.09.2015

Dear C,

How are you doing? How is your chemo going? I spoke to my mum on the phone yesterday and she told me that the doctors were now looking for the donor for your bone marrow transplant… Oh God, I hope they will find that person soon.

It was so good to hear your voice the other day we spoke… even though it was one of the most painful experience I had to ever endure…. I just couldn’t believe you told me, that before I leave the prison you might be already married to somebody else. How come? It’s us baby, it’s you and me, no one else…

C, this prison is so much better. It’s decent. It seems like there is some kind of order here. One of the guards came to see me the other day and said he would be my personal officer – Mr Steward. A nice guy. He took me to a small office and asked me how I was coping. I broke down and told him a bit about us. He listened. He asked me to be strong. He talked to me about learning courses that I could do here and what kind of work I could sign up for. I think I’m gonna give it a go and try art classes. I can’t paint, but I like the idea of just creating something. I will never be as great as you are baby.

My cell is in a decent “neighbourhood”. I have an old Scotish guy to my left – his name is John, then a guy called Ben on the other side. Ben seems very energetic – he must be in his mid-thirties. He helped me arrange a new kettle and gave me some chemicals to clean my cell when I moved in. There is also that guy called Trevor – he seems cool too. He looks like he spent all of his life sunbathing in the Bahamas – his skin is very tanned. There is also a little guy called Ryan – he is very short and looks like he is 16 years old. His teeth are terribly yellow and I saw his cell – what a mess…

Geoff is on res 2 (I am on res 5), but we see each other during the exercise time. They let us out once a day at 11.30 till noon. We walk around the yard or sometimes we sit on the bench. Ibrahim also comes to my cell and he even encouraged me to play cards with me once.

The worst is at night. When at 6pm they lock the cells and then I am left with nothing but my thoughts. It’s horrible. How am I going to last 3 years here…?

Baby, my anti-depressants started to kick in now – I will end here and soon write again.

I love you. So Much.

Forever Yours

Sebastian