[Throwback Thursday — Originally published November, 2013]
I love you. I am so sorry I couldn’t be there for you and the children on Christmas. I am so sorry all of this happened. I hope you are OK. Not being able to talk to you since I’ve been here has heightened my anxiety and they’ve kept me in medical because of it. This is all a blur and I’m trying to pay attention to what is happening but I just don’t understand.
They say I stabbed a woman. They say her blood was on my pants and that they have even more evidence. They say I could get twenty years. They say I’m unremoreseful and evil. They keep saying things but they make no sense.
They’re moving me to a different block and are taking my belongings. Send money if you can, I have nothing.
[Throwback Thursday — originally published on March 14th, 2013]
“It’s just a fucking pillow!” Alex screamed as she threw half of the contents on her bed across the room. The tattered, naked ball of fluff had somehow managed to attack her during the night, and she woke up with the certainty that it was out to get her.
This had become a regular thing, the paranoia of someone or something conspiring against her. Actually, it’s been occurring ever since her first time.
Alex pushed that thought out of her head; she had more important things to worry about than if inanimate objects really were trying to kill her, or if she was just going crazy. It wouldn’t matter in a few minutes anyway.
This is how most of Alex’s mornings went, at least the mornings she woke up at home. The sun was too bright, the seagulls too loud, the headaches too painful. She would have a brief freak-out about something, a conversation with herself, then get down to business.