“Ah fuck it,” I whispered, writing a random address on the newly finished letter. I have no idea if the address even exists, but what’s the worst that could happen?

“Dear, no one,

I know that no one will probably ever read this but there is nothing else to do in this hell hole. So I might as well explain how and why I ended up in jail. My parents are dicks. And not like your average “aww they grounded me” dicks I mean like, they kicked me out of the house when I was 13 because I decided I didn’t believe in god and I liked rock music. So much for “we’re all god’s children”. Anyways I moved in with my friend for a bit (his mum and dad didn’t know, they didn’t like me much) and I moved from friend's house to friend's house but eventually, when I was 15, I ran out of friends to go to. Then long story short I got in with a gang (I won’t mention names because I’m the only one who got caught, lucky me.) I moved into their place. We sold drugs and made petty theft. That went well for a while. But I’m 20 now and a month ago we got an offer. They wanted a bunch of drugs in exchange for 30 G’s so of course we said yes, (I thought it was too good to be true, I should have realized then that it was) we made plans to meet in the abandoned warehouse (their idea) and of course they ambushed us, shot three of us, me being one of them. I got it in the ribs, one of the others died, and the third only got shot in the leg. There weren’t enough of us to carry me back, and I couldn’t walk. I was lucky to be alive, or maybe I would have been better dead.

Anyways I pretend I was dead and the men left me. But the cops showed up, I think, I don’t really remember, I had lost so much blood I was delusional. But now I’m here, in prison. So yeah, that's all.

Signed Leon.”

I gave the letter to the guard and he took it, looking at the folded piece of paper she asked: “Who’s it for?” I shrugged and turned my back to her.

today I woke up to the sound of metal banging on metal. I groaned and rubbed my eyes “What?” I called

“You’ve got a return letter,” said Charles. He was one of the more likable guards, he didn’t try to ask stupid questions or make conversation.

“What?” I asked, more groggily, not fully awake and wondering what the hell he was talking about.

“Well, you sent a letter, didn’t you? They answered.”

“They what?” and then it dawned on me, the letter I sent two weeks ago, the latter with the random address. I shot out of bed and went to the door. Charles slipped the letter through the bars. I didn’t know why I was so excited but I was. Charles looked at me suspiciously and then walked away. I didn’t care. I ripped open the letter, it was short and rather disappointing. It read.

“Hey Leon,

That fucking sucks for you, sorry (but like genuinely) I’m not in a great position myself. Hiding from the cops right now, sorry but you don’t get to know my real name, you can have what I wish my parents called me Lyric. I also had a fucked up childhood, except my dad was the dick. He was abusive, and after my mom slipped on ice in a parking lot and died I ran away. Same as you, got in with some people who helped me. They got me school until I graduated and now here I am. I’ll be moving, so if you send more letters I won’t get them.

P.s also not religious

Signed, me”

“Well that was a disappointing piece of shit” I whispered, but somehow I couldn’t help feeling sorry for Lyric and worry for them.

A week later and nothing changed, except, I got in a fight and have a nasty scar on my forehead. All of a sudden I heard a loud voice at my door say, “up against the wall.” I don’t even protest I just do as I’m told. Someone walks in behind me and I hear the door close. Then the guard says, “Meet your new inmate Andy.”