Dear Baby, 27th of September 1977
These are dark times; I'm locked up here in this cell, and the only thing to look forward to is my death, for only then this misery will end. I've heard them talk about me, the guards told each other that after your birth I'll be even more trouble, so they'll "get rid of me". I'm not afraid of death, I simply do not want to die, for there is so much I would like to see, do, and experience. I would like to see you grow up, and watch you become the wonderful person you're no doubt going to be. So like I said; these are dark times, but in the middle of that, I feel life. I felt you kick for the first time today, and it was so great, I realised I was not alone. I'm three months along now in the pregnancy, and you're growing bigger every day. I want you to be born, but on the other hand I don't, for your birth will mean my death. Maybe I should not yet worry about this, it's still six months away, but I have nothing else to do, except distract myself with this pen, and pieces of paper.
As I'm entering my second trimester, fall's arriving. I can tell by the way the guards, and the few people I see around me are changing into warmer clothes. Their hair is slightly messed up by the playful, stronger wind. That same wind used to play with my hair too. When I was younger I hated the way my curls were blown into my face so I had to tie them into a ponytail, which according to me looked awful on me, but as the years passed I learned to love the autumn wind. It's a sign of birth, the new birth of the seasons after the dry Californian summers. I loved the golden brown colours of the leaves, and the way the fresh air smelled in the forest. Will I ever see those colours, or smell that smell again? I'm afraid not, but I hope you will. I want you to do everything that I can't anymore. Enjoy life; see, hear, and smell every beautiful thing around you, and love it. Love it like you would love me, my dear. I will pass my life on to nature, and I hope that you will recognize my voice in the singing of the birds, and see my appearance in a whirlwind of autumn leaves, and my reflection in the sea. Don't ever take anything in life for granted, remember that. I did, and now it's too late. I wish I could see the sea or the forest I used to go to one more time, but it's too late now. So once again, learn to love your surroundings, they bring you much more joy than the people who in the end are only selfish. Take care,
Your Mother
Author's Note: Thank you AJeff, Imzadi, MagicallyYours, and Poisonchik88 for reviewing and supporting me so far! I love reviews and I always try to use critics and tips to improve my writing skills, which definately need to develop a lot more. You all bring me one more step in the right direction of posting truly good stories. So, thanks again and to you and everyone else: keep the reviews coming! ;)