CELL BLOCK LETTERS
COLE-PAST
The first nightin the county jail is the worst night of my life.
I’m not sure what I expected—maybe a bigger cell. The four concrete walls feel like they’re closing in on me. All I have is an uncomfortably thin cot, a steel toilet, and a tiny window that only allows a small sliver of light. There’s a kind of oppressive quiet here. It’s not like I ever thought I’d be in a place like this, but here I am. Alone. The only sounds are the occasional distant clink of metal, the shuffle of guards walking down the hall, and my own thoughts. My mind races.
I’m scared. I didn’t think I would be, but I am. I’ve been through a lot in my life. I’ve seen things that would break most people, but this—this is different. This is real. I’m facing years. Maybe longer. There’s nothing but this cell and the weight of the world bearing down on me. I miss my family. I miss my mom. My brother Jeremiah, my little sister Isla—they don’t deserve this. They didn’t deserve to get wrapped up in my mess. But it’s not just them I’m thinking about right now.
Kenna.
I don’t know how she’s handling all of this. How is she doing? She must be hurting, and I can’t even be there for her. I can’t helpher. We were finally growing up. Making plans for our future, and now I’ve just made it worse. I want to be there for her. I wanted to show her I can be the man she deserves. That we can build something together, raise a family, be happy. But now…now everything’s a mess. I should be there when she needed me. I wish I could be there to help her through this. But I’m stuck in this fucking cell, waiting for a trial that could tear apart everything I’ve ever cared about.
I see her face every time I close my eyes. How she looks when she laughs, how her brows crease when she’s trying not to cry, how her lips curl up slightly when she’s lost in thought.
She doesn’t deserve this.
I close my eyes, my fingers tightening around the piece of paper on my lap. I can’t help it. The tears come. I can’t stop them. The frustration, the anger, the guilt, it’s all too much.
But I know I can’t give in. Not now. Not when it matters the most.
I sit up and force myself to focus on the small task at hand. I need to write. Write letters. Tell the people I love that I’m thinking about them. Tell them I’m sorry. Tell them I don’t want to be here. But I am. And I can’t change that.
I reach over and grab the envelope, the pen, and start writing.
I pause before I begin. My hands are already shaking. The paper in front of me is blank, but it’s heavier than any weight I’ve lifted. How do I write to people who are probably ashamed of me now? How do I make them believe in me after this?
Mom,
I don’t know how to say any of this, but I need you to know that I’m so sorry for everything. For putting you through this. I’m sorry for not being the son you deserve. For the pain I’ve caused you. I never wanted to hurt you. You’vealways been there for me, always loved me, even when I didn’t deserve it. I wish I could go back and change everything. I wish I could have made better choices, but I didn’t.
I’m so scared, Mom. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me. But I need you to be strong for me. I need you to stay strong, for Jere, for Isla, and for yourself.
I love you, and I’m so sorry. Please don’t blame yourself. None of this is your fault.
Love, Cole
The pen hovers over the paper as I try to breathe. My chest is tight. Writing to Mom feels like opening a wound I didn’t even know I had. I picture her in the kitchen, humming, holding a coffee cup between her hands, waiting for news she never wanted to hear. She always believed in me. And I let her down.
I write my letter to Jeremiah next. He is only a few years younger than I am, and I know he will remember this forever. I hate that he will have to live with the fact that his brother is in prison.
Jere,
It is difficult to know where to begin. I’ve let you down. I let everyone down, especially you. You’ve been my rock, always looking out for me, and I know I’ve made you carry the weight of my mistakes. I can’t fix that now. I can’t undo the past, but I’m sorry. Forgive me for not being the brother you deserved, for all the times I failed you.
You’ve always been there for me, and I’m grateful for that. More than you’ll ever know. Ijust hope that you can still forgive me.
I’m scared, Jere. I don’t know what’s next. But I need you to know that I love you.
Cole
I picture him reading this letter and wondering why I didn’t say these things when I had the chance. He always looked up to me—even when I didn’t deserve it. And now I’ve become the story parents use to scare their kids straight.
I write my sister Isla a letter, and even though she is only three years old, I want her to know that I love her no matter what.
Isla,
I don’t even know what to say. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. You don’t deserve any of this. I hope you’re okay. I hope you know how much I love you.
