I want to thank Screedler for posting these Letters From Hell. This is a weekly feature that I always promote to the front page, some of the language may be disturbing but I think it is important that the text remains unedited the way it was originally written from jail.
Welcome to Letters from Hell – Part 8. Another short letter. It seems the shorter the letter, the more unpleasant the memories they bring. This was day 32 of 76 of my incarceration and by that time, I was beginning to feel a little institutionalized like my buddy Burgette. A suspension of time and hope. Not really caring about myself, my family, or my future. Just shuffling along behind bars like some kind of zombie. Click here to read all the prior installments of the series.
June 7, 2006
Dear Dad and Sarah,
Greetings from Cell Block A Pod 9. It’s about 8:30am and I am waiting to be called for my court date. On one hand, I am anxious to find out how soon I can get out of here. On the other, I dread about how long I might have to stay.
I have been up since 4:50 am. I could not get back to sleep so I took a long shower and laid back down and read a while. I had hidden away an apple pie and an orange juice to eat before I go, but my nerves have knotted up my stomach. I will not get lunch today, so I thought a snack before we left would help. Just as well, I guess. I would hate to have to go to the bathroom with leg and wrist shackles.
Last night the guards finally broke up the gang that was headquartered in the cell next to mine. They took the leader (Peanut) and three of his henchman out of our cell block after dinner. The day before his main “captain” was taken away after instigating a fight with one of my cellmates. It all went down within a few feet of my bunk. I thought I was going to get caught in the crossfire, but luckily I did not.
Well they finally called me, wish me luck.
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