Even the Walls Speak

A few days ago I had the opportunity to be part of a human story, that left in me and I will always remember. Held by correspondence with several prisoners, I saw many stories and each was very strong and unique in their own way. But one of them made me the best impression. One of the letters was signed by a person with a life sentence. It was very difficult to me to read the letter because there were too many mistakes. But finally I managed to figure out what the story of this man was. I realized that he has entered in the jail almost illiterate, but now he is in 5th grade in prison’s school. I sent him a letter and soon I got a reply. The man had a clear request to me. Christmas was approaching and he wanted to contact his mother, who had not sent any letter since he was imprisoned.

He told me that he really missed his family, but he is ashamed to send them a letter, which might not understand. He told that he wanted to send them something special. I immediately agreed and I began to retell his words:

“Hello, mum,

How are you doing there? Has it snowed yet? As I know you are waiting for Christmas with such a joy even I got warm. Take something nice to my son, please, but don’t tell him who is from. Let him believe in Santa Claus- let him to live in the wonderful world of fairy tales and good. Where I lived once…

I know that you worry about me but you don’t have to. There are some days when I’m really okay. Don’t think I am lonely- I have never been.

Initially all I have was you. You gave me everything I needed. You made the most delicious cake and cuddled me most. And that was enough for me.

But I grew up, mom, I've changed. I needed a friend-and I found it. He was everything to me-heroin.  You hated it, you were trying to protect me, but, mom, and I found solace in it.He was there for me when nobody else had the guts. The world is very ugly, mom, you know, but the heroin hid it from me.He showed me a different, magical world. This was a better world, and I realized that I was willing to do anything to stay in it.  I loved so much my new friend that I would kill for him. And I killed, mom.

 And here I am. Don't worry, I have even more friends. First, I met with the four walls. They are great friends, mom. They know my innermost secrets and have seen the ugliest side of me. They tell me stories about people who have taken shelter in there. I tell them about you, mom. I tell them about my boy, and for the love of my life. Yes, mom, I'm talking about Annie. I tell them about how our common friend led her to grave and me here. I still see her, mom. I see her in my dreams. I see her in our son’s eyes. And when I wake up in the middle of the night, drenched in tears and with the memory of Annie in front of my eyes, I see that I already have new friends. Sadness,nostalgia, anger, despair, prosecution. They're here, mom, they are always with me. I'm not scared anymore, at least I'm not alone. Yes, it's cold, but it’s not colder than my soul.

I would give anything to go back in time when you were good enough for me, mom. But everything changes ... Each of us sees a hole in the road during their journey to adulthood. Some jump over and succeed others just fall out. I fell, mom.

I miss you.

Love: your grown child"

We sent the letter, and now we're waiting for an answer. I am sincerely grateful that this man trusts me and allows me to see his soul. I feel really good to know that I have sent a message to a mother who waited so long for news about her son. The experience of the history of this family was both very painful, but very useful for me.

Cvetelina Arnaudova, student from Sandanski, Bulgaria

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