Lost Years

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Just something I'm thinking about making into a book within itself.
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Y/n's POV

In the dimly lit cell, I traced the lines of the recent picture of Blue I had received from mama Tina.

She was twelve now, being one years old when I was first locked up

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She was twelve now, being one years old when I was first locked up. The last image of her that was burned into my memory was before the heavy doors of incarceration slammed shut. She was laughing as she bounce around in her mommy's arms.

My mind wandered back to the day it all unraveled. She betrayed me. Bey, really betrayed me. She was my ride or die, until she wasn't. Until she was concocting lies and fabricating evidence that led to my conviction. I couldn't fathom her motives, but bitterness and anger clouded my thoughts, consumed me as the years slipped by.

About a month into my sentencing Bey made it known that I was to have no contact with her or Blue. There would be no visits, no pictures, and no phone calls. I was to be completely wiped out my daughter's life. The pictures that I have now are through mama Tina, who calls me regularly voicing her disagreement with how her daughter is handling me.

In the solitude of my confinement, memories of Blue became my lifeline.

I imagined her first steps, her infectious laughter, and the sparkle in her eyes as she discovered the world around her. Yet, with each passing day, the fear gnawed at me– would she remember me? Would she understand?

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Part 2? Thoughts?

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