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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 - 7. Letter 6

19.08.2015

Dear C,

How is my gorgeous guy doing today? How are you dealing with your chemo?

They have finally registered Kasia’s number – I spoke to her on the phone 2 days ago. It was a very short, but emotional conversation. I have no credit to call - only the "starter" money, which is 3 pounds they give to everybody. I cried and so did she… She didn’t really know what to ask me about, I didn’t really know what to say… How was I supposed to tell her how bad things are actually here…? She told me, that she visited you and that you are doing fine, which was such a great relief to me.

You know my love, all I wanted to hear from her was, that she was going to come here and take me home. That this whole prison was just a joke. That I could come back to you. But she never told me that... I broke down in tears when I came back to my cell.

This morning I got two little cards from Lisa and a letter from Liz - from HR department. It was nice to hear from Lisa. She promised me that she would visit very soon. Liz was also very nice, she told me how much my team is missing me and what a massive shock it was to everybody. People cried and they couldn’t believe, what has happened to me... She said, that she knew I was never supposed to be here and that she was very sorry. She sent me a message of encouragement and support.

Yesterday when I went downstairs to try to call you, someone came to my cell and threw all the rubbish from the outside bin on my bed. They also stole my milk. And urinated on my bed. As I was approaching my cell, the guy who lives next door, started to laugh and told me that I had a surprise inside. First I got so scared, that they would beat me up again, but it was just the mess…

I cleaned everything and removed my blanket from the bed - as it was all wet. I washed it in my sink with my soap - it is still a bit wet. I hope it will get dry by tomorrow.

My back, chest and face still hurt quite badly. I have a bruised nose and my finger is twisted. I can’t touch my head because it still hurts from the day they were stomping on my face.

Even one of my tooth is now quite loose and it hurts like hell. But I will be fine.

One of the guards, when he saw me after they had beaten me up, asked if I fell from the stairs – I said yes. I knew he didn’t want to hear anything else. The staff here want to have as little problems as possible and as little paperwork to do as possible too.

Yesterday I got a letter under my door saying that I had been assigned to a category C prison.

It means that I might be moving to a different establishment one day. Category AA and A is the worst – it’s for terrorists, murderers etc.

This prison is AA category.

Category B is for less dangerous people, then there is a category C.

There is also a category D – that is for all those people, who served in prisons long enough and can be placed in the open condition establishments – they can even leave prison for a few hours daily.

I’d love to be assigned to a category D one day soon, so maybe I could see you for a few hours each day.

One of the guards told me this morning, that there would be someone coming to check on my toilet soon. Finally! The smell is unbearable. I still sleep with a toilet paper stuck in my nose at night.

Last night I dreamt I was at the seaside with my parents – as a child. I could feel the sea breeze, smell the sand. I literally felt the sand under my feet.

When I woke up and saw where I was - I just cried. I often wake up in the morning with disbelief I am here...It is very difficult for me to understand the injustice I have been served. But I constantly explain to myself, that it will be ok. That I have to be here, so you can get better. It’s like a sacrifice I had to make. And I am willing to go all the way baby, just please get better…

That’s all I want.

You know, when they use violence against me here, I just close my eyes and tell myself, that I will go through all of this - because I have you.

Baby, when you feel better – please come to see me. I just miss you so much. So fucking much. I can’t put it in writing, how much I want to see you again...

Hopefully, soon I will be able to send you all these letters too – this is already the 6th one. I received a note saying that I have been assigned to a print shop. I have no idea what that is, but at least I will be able to pass the time quicker. They didn’t tell me when I would start though.

I’m going to finish here, my head hurts quite badly today and I have been feeling really dizzy since they beat me up last time.

I will write soon my love.

I love you.

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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Chapter Comments

His dizziness and headache is a bad sign; a concussion I imagine. I feel awful for him, but the letter acknowledging that he needs to be in a lower-security facility is a positive sign. It's the first sign that there might be hope. That and that someone may be coming to fix the smell. 

 

I think I would be like this too - not able to eat. 

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