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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

300 Letters - 5. Letter 4

08.08.2015

Dear C,

How is my boy doing? I am going crazy here with no updates about your health…

None of the telephone numbers has been registered yet. I asked one of the guards about it and he told me that it wasn’t his problem. I asked him to give me another form to fill in and his answer was: “I’m busy”. I will try tomorrow with someone else.

We were locked up for 2 days non-stop. I don’t know why, but in a way, it was better for me. No one could harm me here. People were shouting in their cells, they were throwing things around – all night long. I didn’t sleep at all, but at least I was safe. They only let us out once a day to pick up the food. They never gave us any lunch – I didn’t mind – I am not hungry at all.

This evening, when I went to pick up my dinner (half frozen roll with some tomato) a guy next to me snatched it from my tray and told me to shut up. I wasn’t going to say anything anyway. Let him have it if he was that hungry. I still have water in my sink – I can handle it. I am constantly thirsty, I don’t know why...

2 days ago they did the search in every single cell on our block. It was awful. I had to strip down naked in front of the guards. Then I had to leave my cell and wait outside, while they basically turned my cell upside down. Everything was smashed on my floor - well I don't have much, but it wasn't a nice feeling... They even took my milk - the one we get in the evening for breakfast. I don't know why. Later I overheard someone saying, that they were looking for the homemade weapons - after that incident in the dinner queue the other day...

It’s almost 1 am now and I am sitting here in my small chair writing on my knees. I think I’ve lost some weight – I feel more comfortable sitting in such position nowadays you know...

Oh, the guy next to me has just started throwing something against his door and walls again now – swearing all the time. I think he is watching something on his TV. I don’t have TV here - they told me they are short on them. It’s ok, I will survive without it.

Yesterday some woman came to see me - she asked me about my financial status. She gave me some forms to fill in and gave me a sample letter to write to the bank saying that I will not be able to pay off my credit card now - as I am in prison. I filled it in yesterday and waiting now for some job here so I could buy stamps and post it.

You know what babes, my skin has started peeling so bad… All over my face, my head. It’s like big chunks of my skin are literally falling off. I don’t know what that is… I look terrible. I have a tiny mirror here – I can’t even look at my face.

I miss taking shower so much! Since I’ve been here – I had none. I’m just too scared to go there, so I wash in the sink. And I'd rather go and queue for the phone - hoping I can get through and hear your voice.

Loneliness is killing me. Not being able to hold you in my arms is worse than any pain. I don’t care about no food, no comfy bed or being treated like a piece of shit…Not being able to be with you is the worst thing. I cry every day, but it’s ok. I know it will pass. And we will be together again. That day will come when I hold you tight. So tight. And we will cry together, but with tears of joy. And we will re-build what they tried to destroy. We will leave that ghost town behind and we will build our future again.

I am just so worried about you baby. I just want you to stay strong, stay focused on your recovery. And I will go through this hell here - because I have you.

The paper I am writing on now is a bit better as you can see – I found it inside the rubbish bin amongst some newspapers. Sorry for this baby, but I have nothing here.

You know, 2 days ago I looked at all my things here – and I just burst into tears… All my life, everything I have now is in a small plastic bag. But it’s ok – I have you. And that’s the best thing ever.

Stupid pen – I think the ink is running out - I'm trying to press as hard as I can, but I think it's dead...Baby, let me write back to you soon. I will try to get some sleep now – the guy next to me has gone quiet now, so maybe I can sleep for a few hours.

I miss you.

I love you with every single beat of my heart.

Forever Yours

Sebastian

Copyright © 2018 Sebastian Bauer; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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I guess I won't pretend that the narrator's experience is a unique one, sadly. But all this hatred towards him; a guard saying what he did, none of the phone numbers being registered...idk. 

 

Another point readers at this point will be wondering is what the conviction was for. Clearly the writer is non-violent, so unless the conviction was for a violent crime, he's been placed in wrong security-level facility. Was that on purpose? The sense of injustice grows... 

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Dear AC Benus,

 

I truly appreciate your active feedback.

The place I was sent too was very raw, very brutal.

Many things you may wonder about now will be explained throughout all of my letters.

My story is a journey - from dark to light. That's all I can say at this point.

Thank you and kind regards.

S.B.

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