Dear Love,

I really didn’t know what I was walking into that night, as I unlocked my front door and let myself into the apartment. I was so shocked I couldn’t even process what I was seeing at first. Not the specifics. Just the color. The huge red pool soaking into the rug. My great grandmother’s rug, ruined. That’s disappointing, still. I’ll never have another one like it. Well… I can’t have another one like it in here, anyway.

That’s why I need your help, love. My account is just about dried up at this point, what with all the lawyers fees and whatnot. I can’t afford to continue to fight, but I can’t spend the rest of my life in this shithole. Seriously, it’s a shithole. TV makes women’s prisons look like a fucking spa day compared to this place. I dunno if I’ll make it in here if I can’t get out. Someone might take me out. It might be myself, even. Unfortunately, the thought has crossed my mind more times than I’d like to admit.

Anywho, that aside - I’ll tell you what happened to relay to the lawyers or whoever you can talk to about getting me the fuck outta here. Starting a new appeal or whatever has to be done.

Like I said, I didn’t know what I was about to see when I walked in there. I just went out for a little while, a couple hours tops. Just for some time to myself. Shit has been so stressful lately with work and then all the personal shit with me and Jess. Fuck. It’s hard to even write her name. I mean, shouldn’t it be though? I did find her in a pool of blood.

Jesus Christ, imagine how I felt walking in like that. I dunno who she pissed off but they really had no desire to hold back. Jess was stabbed so many times, they went back for multiple knives after breaking the blades of three off in her chest. The techs who did the autopsy couldn’t hardly count the number of times.

It might have been her ex, probably, now that I think about it. She did get physical with her when they were together. Plus she assaulted us both that one night we went out. There’s a police report on that, I dunno why they didn’t investigate that one harder. Fucking psycho. I guess the one positive of being here would be that I’m safe from her. Not really safe, though. Bitches in here will kick your ass over basically nothing. Look at someone wrong and you’re bleeding out in the bathroom.

Anyway when I found her like that I just… I couldn’t even understand what I was looking at. I saw all the red and thought “the fuck Jess, did you you have to drop an entire bottle of wine on the rug again?” Until I got closer and realized she was there too. Sort of. It was her, but not her. I knew it was, but it didn’t feel like it was. It felt like I walked into the wrong apartment and stumbled upon someone else’s crime scene. There was no way this was real, but… Well we know what happened. Cops came, hauled my ass in accusing me of something I don’t even have the capacity to do. No matter what I said, none of them believed me. Still don’t, I guess. Wild. I adored Jess. I fought as hard as I could with what I have but I couldn’t afford a lawyer who was actually good at their job and took it seriously. It’s my life on the line, holy shit, do your fucking job. But no.

And here we are. Been rotting in here for the last 6 years for something I didn’t even do. So if you can do anything to help me try to get out, I will literally owe you my life.

With love, always.

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I fold the letter up, stuff it in an envelope, and fall back on my bed. A small grin plays at the corners of my mouth. Some of the people who write to me here are smart enough to see through my shit, but not this one. This dude is a fucking idiot. He’ll do anything as long as I pretend I feel a little bit bad about what happened, and a little bit like I’m a victim too. But I don’t feel shit other than glad she’s gone. Jess deserved exactly what she got and she deserves to rot in hell where she is right now.

My one regret is that they’ll never find her girlfriend’s body. Jess was really torn up but… The girlfriend. That one was probably my best work and I’ll never get to share what I did to her, or where I left her.