I don’t know if this letter will reach you but I thought that it might as comfort in this place. Even the smallest comfort is something. It seems likely it’ll be my home for now on until I’m officially tried. They’re holding me at Alaroid federal penitentiary, a maximum security facility for, as they like to say, ‘the worst of the worst’.
My trial is still some months away but my lawyer tells me that my confession makes a legal defense a challenge. I told her not to waste her time.
The worst part really is what they make you give up in here…It’s not just your freedom, they take your dignity…your hope. So you give up and do as you’re told…and you know how good I am at doing what I’m told.
The worst part, I am just another prisoner. I don’t expect to make many friends here but then I’ve never made friends easily anyway. At least I have a little privacy. When I’m not in the yard, at meals or at work duty, I’m housed in the unit for violent offenders…alone.
It reminds me of the first time I lost you in Ireland. I’d see you in my dreams, but I’d wake up… and you were still gone.
The dreams hurt but they were all that kept me going. They did then… and they do now.