People always said I was cursed.
Gwen Stallone is a Realm Walker with a lot of family drama and a mysterious connection to Jason Todd. They share a terrible secret, but one that will draw them together.
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Dear Bluey,
Greetings from Belle Reve. Thanks for your letters, they're the best thing about all month I was glad to see the back of. Zoe's still returning hers to sender.
Worse than Northern Ireland in here lately. Few boys have gone on a hunger strike, protesting about the cramped conditions, over populations in the cells, not enough activities on rec days. Yesterday, Billy got his head dumped in Yard 4 shit bucket for giving a bit too much lip to Guigsy, who was bitching about the cold outside. Now they've put a little rim inside all the shit buckets so they're too small to fit a human head inside. I guess that's what ya call progress?
Big scrap broke out in the caf on Sunday. Old Harry drove a fork into Boomer's gut because Boomer said Australia invented Pavlova and not New Zealand. All hell broke loose and, as a result, the screws took away the TV from Yard 1. No more Days of Our Lives. Take a Reve con's freedom, take his rights, take his humanity, take his will to live, but for God's sake, please don't take his television!
As you can imagine, the boys went apeshit over that and started dropping shits throughout the prison like they were apes. I wonder if that's where saying comes from? Anyway, all the boys are keen on hearing any updates outworlders might have on Days of Our Lives, so any insight will be greatly appreciated.
My shitter broke on Tuesday because Dennis has the runs from a bad batch of lentils they fixed us. Dennis used up all his bog roll (is that the slang you use of toilet paper?) rations and had to start using pages from an old book we had lying around. Of course the pages didn't break down and just choked the shitter so the whole of Division One could smell his inner demons.
Did I tell you about Tripod in the last letter? Fritz found this cat creeping through the yards a while back. Fritz has been behaving well lately so the screws let him have the cat during day rec. We all started keeping a bit of food from lunch to feed the cat and now he skips on through our cells as he pleases during day rec. Then one of the screws accidently closed the door on the cat and the poor fella had to be taken to the vet who gave Fritz's little kitty a troubling ultimatum: expensive surgery to have the leg removed or a bullet between the eyes (not quite what the surgeon said, but you get the picture.) Word spread around about the crippled cat and we passed around a hat and we all put our months wages into surgery for Fritz's damn cat. It had its op and came right back to us walking around on three legs. Then we had a lengthy discussion about what we were going to call the cat whose life we saved, and we all settled on the name of Tripod. The cat's bigger than The Beatles in here.
Glad to hear you got a job; you should be able to save up to rent a place with a roommate. Keep stay in collage and don't slack off. You don't want to end up in a shithole like this because you don't want to find yourself all souped up on chloral hydrate and butt-fucked through the laundry fence by the Black Stallion because that's what can happen to kids who don't keep on top of their studies.
