I am sitting down to write a letter. Yes, I said write a letter. No e-mail, no computer, just a pen and some paper. Now where did I put that pen? Let me get my thoughts together first….
I think the time has finally come; I need to get this off my chest once and for all. I’ve tried a hundred times to tell my side of the story, but no one wants to believe me. They all think I’m making it up. You are a captive audience, you have to listen.
That day back in Toledo, that cold February day, I was really angry at you. I thought I could trust you, and you swore you wouldn’t tell anyone my secret. I was 15 and I looked up to you and saw you as a true friend, not just my aunt. Wow, I was wrong. As soon as I told you my secret you were on the phone to my parents in a flash.
Once you told my parents that I was pregnant my life was over. They threatened to ‘send me away’ to some school in California where no one would know me and none of my parents’ friends in Toledo would ever find out about the baby.
I remember leaving your apartment and heading home, knowing that they were waiting for me, waiting to read me the riot act. I was positive they already had my suitcase packed and the station wagon warming up in the driveway.
But that never happened Auntie dear. I didn’t wind up in the home for unwed mothers did I? No, I sure didn’t. It was way worse than that. By the time I got home your neighbors had already called the police and reported screams coming from your apartment didn’t they? They found your cold dead body. I told you not to scream so loud, but did you listen to me? No, and because of those screams I’ve spent the last 20 years in prison. I live in this tiny cell, all alone 23 hours a day, with nothing to do but think. Big deal, they let me out in the yard for one hour a day, rain or shine, but the rest of the time it’s just me and my thoughts.
They took everything away from me over the years. No more books or family photos. The guard drops by once a day. He’s a real jerk but he brings me candy. I trust him, or I did until the day he made me ‘pay’ for the candy.
You know what dear auntie? It was easier the second time. You were practice, you screwed me and I made you pay. Now the idiot paid too. Who said you have to do what the guard tells you? I did, until that day last month.
He came into my cell without a candy bar, but still expected me to ‘pay’. Sure, right! He got what was coming to him. His mistake, all his fault, he asked for it. Stupid man. Very stupid man.
He was about ready to get his daily treat from me when I grabbed that antique fountain pen I had hidden and plunged into his family jewels. He didn’t die right away and there was a lot of blood. That guard sure could scream, almost as loud as you screamed. You remember that fountain pen don’t you auntie? That was the last thing you ever saw as I stabbed it into your heart.
Now, where was I? Oh yes, auntie dear I was about to come clean with you. I was never pregnant back then. I only told you that as a test, to find out if you really were on my side or not. It worked didn’t it, in a way. I got rid of you and your lies for good, and they got rid of me. And to pay it forward, I got rid of the idiot guard who really did get me pregnant.
So here I am in solitary getting fatter by the day. They will take the baby and put her up for adoption as soon as she is born. She will be better off I know that.
Now, if I could just find that antique fountain pen I could write this letter to you and the one to that idiot prison guard’s wife. But that’s another story for another day.
An overactive imagination!