/Bold sections are flashbacks
/Italic sections are letters/emphasis/internal thoughts
/I suppose I should put a language warning in here somewhere
/Silence is so freaking loud
L.I.W.
Hey, I didn't upset you or anything, did I? I don't mean to be a pain in the ass, but you usually respond within a couple days and it has been like a month since I've heard from you. If my bitching about Morello has gotten annoying, you can just tell me, you know; I have some pretty damn thick skin. Besides, things are getting better between us, and by that I mean we are back to fucking in chapels of course. There was some drama with that jerk of a fiancée she had but it has blown over now. Didn't I tell you it would happen eventually? Ladies just can't get enough.
Is the business going through a rough patch? I know you've told me about how you would spend up to sixteen hours in your office sometimes. Don't work yourself to death. Life is for living, not slaving away over some desk job. Did those big shot CEOs you were talkin' with stick to the contract? Need me to kick their asses? I've got some friends who owe me favors, you know. They wouldn't mind beatin' down some fancy ass business owner. Besides the muscle, I also know some people in the warehousing business that I can get you in touch with if you find that you need more space for increased demand. Let me know if I can help. I know I am in the slammer but that doesn't mean I am utterly useless.
Speaking of useless, my mother dearest finally came to visit. I know, surprised the shit out of me too. It was only, what, eleven months? Guess the tight-ass only came to see if I got my ass sent down the hill for drugs. The bitch. The first words out of her damn mouth were "I'm surprised. I was half expecting to be told you were transferred to another rehab facility." Seriously, what kind of mother says shit like that after not visiting for almost a year? It's like I'm not even her daughter. Fuck, my prison mother treats me better than that cunt. I swear, you should really meet Red. You would like her; she is more of a mother figure than both of our parents combined. Times like, a fucking thousand.
I'm sure she told you, but our giant friend was flown out for something or other. She didn't tell me much, so I don't know the specifics but the COs' here haven't given away her cube space yet so I am fairly confident that she is coming back to this shithole. Some of the other people freaked her out with stories once they found out she was flying Con Air. I don't know how they get this information since I know for a fact the only person she told about it was me. I swear the walls in this place have eyes and ears. She tried not to let their horror stories get to her but she was definitely quieter the next day. I'm sure she will be fine though; she's got the hard-ass act down pat. She didn't specify, but her travelling probably has something to do with her case. Since I got my ass dropped in here that is really the only reason people don the orange again. I told her that I would keep an eye on her shit while she was away. Yes, most of it is actually shit. Old Photos, books, eyeliner. Crap. Nothing I could claim as interest like pretzels or candy bars. Most of it is sitting in a box under my bed, just in case people wander into her cube and decide to steal something. She made me promise that if you send anything for her I won't open it. I won't- the behemoth would kill me. She's such a freak. She has all those letters you sent her tucked in some old ass book. For someone who claims she doesn't care about friends, she sure as shit bogarts the fuck out of her pictures and letters. I took the liberty to look through them. Need to know what kind of treasure trove I am sittin' on while she is out there gallivanting around. Fuck, I bet she gets real food out there too. Lucky asshole.
Nicky Nichols # 1024-1299
Federal Department of Corrections
900 Litchfield Avenue
Litchfield, New York 13357
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Hey LIW,
It's the blonde hoodrat again. Don't lie, I know that is what you think!
I also know I am pesterin' ya, but seriously, it's been like two months.
Where the hell did you go?
Nicky Nichols # 1024-1299
Federal Department of Corrections
900 Litchfield Avenue
Litchfield, New York 13357
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Seriously LIW, what the fuck?
Nicky Nichols # 1024-1299
Federal Department of Corrections
900 Litchfield Avenue
Litchfield, New York 13357
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L.I.W.-
What is this I hear? Nicky is telling me that she hasn't heard from you in three months. I am exhausted and on edge, sick of petty drama and bullshit. I finally get back from my..cozy little vacation hoping to get some much needed shut-eye but instead am forced to listen to Nichols jabber on for hours about how she hadn't heard from you in "forever." If I didn't know better I'd think she was dating you and not Morello. Seriously, I don't know whether she is more pissed, frustrated, or downright sad that you haven't written back. What went on between you two anyway? Did she upset you? Whatever it was, just try to work it out. Cutting off communication is a bullshit move considering from where we are there is absolutely nothing we can do about it. I am not going to lie, I was half expecting to have a letter from you by the time I got back, but it seems as if you are shutting me off as well. Is conversing with inmates below you now?
I don't care if you shut me out; I told you from the beginning that I don't need friends. Sure, I had grown use to hearing from you but I am not going to let your silence fuck with my head like it is with Nicky. I would, however, request an explanation, if you feel so inclined. If not to me, then at least to her. You owe her that much; you were essentially one of her best friends in this place. Sad, right? Well the whole point of this penitentiary is to make us feel less than human. My recent "travels" only emphasized this point, making me acutely aware of not only how poorly I am treated, but also how low people perceive me. You probably can't imagine what I am talking about, so I'll give you a small example: during transport they had chained my legs too tightly and I lost feeling in my feet. When it was time to exit the aircraft I couldn't walk and I fell when I was yanked from my seat. They thought that kicking me like some sort of dog was the best way to get me back on my feet. Since my hands were chained to my waist I couldn't push myself up either. The dumbfucks thought I was doing it on purpose. Guards came over and pointed a rifle to my back, simply because I was incapable of walking. Have you ever had a gun pointed at you? It was bullshit. They act like we aren't worth the air we breathe. Then here you come around and treat Nichols and I like actual human beings, like you actually give a shit about what we think. So, yea, the least you could do is give her a reason.
As for your silence toward me, did I offend you when I said that showing up drunk to work every day was a bit much? I am not going to apologize for that, if that is what you are expecting. There is a term for people who drink that heavily: it is called being an alcoholic. So no, I am not sorry and I still want to know what drove you to such lengths. If a simple inquiry is enough to scare you off then you are weaker than I initially thought. Jesus fuck LIW, you come here, bursting into our lives and giving us a reason to concentrate on something besides the shitty fucking mess we have made of ourselves then you suddenly drop contact completely..? Fuck it. Nichols is right: I'm not going to let this go. I don't care if it makes you uncomfortable or if it is inconvenient for you. You know what is inconvenient for us? Letting you into our lives in the first place. I should have known better than to do that again, but now that I have I am not going to simply let you fade back into anonymity. You don't get to do that.
If I hurt your feelings with my honesty then fucking deal with it. Pick your sorry ass back up and write me back. This is your fault: if you hadn't been so fucking persistent then I wouldn't give a shit about you, just like most people I deal with. I've let you become my distraction in this fucking hellhole and I'll be damned if I am going to give it up so easily.
I expect to hear from you soon.
-Alex Vause #1975-0425
Federal Department of Corrections
900 Litchfield Avenue
Litchfield, New York 13357
Author's Note: Sorry for the wait. My courses started up again and I caught a nasty flu so I was out for a while. You guys haven't lost interest, have you?