The Convict

The Visit

Nine years is a long time to know someone. Especially when six of those nine years were spent being in a relationship with that person. BB, Bernida, is an integral part of my life. A key part of my character. Without her, I would have never had to guts to admit I am gay. Without her, I wouldn't have known what a real relationship was supposed to be like. I wouldn't know what it looks like when someone genuinely loves and cares about you. So much so that their life can't go on without you.

She has always been my rock. She is the ice to my fire. The cool to my crazed. The collected to my chaotic. She is my other half, she is the person that completes me. That keeps me grounded, keeps me sane, keeps me safe.

We have our ups and downs, many, many, ups and downs. Sometimes more downs than ups. The two of us butt heads often, opposites in a lot of ways. But no matter how much we fight I know she does it because she has my best interest at heart. That she is just passionate about my well-being. And I can't fault her for that. In fact, I love her more for it.

But I'm not like BB. I am not cool or collected. I don't have it all figured out. I don't know what I want more than half the time. I have never been sure about anything in my life. Well... I was sure about one thing once. One person. But I turned out to be wrong on that.

And just like my story can not be told without BB, there is someone equally as integral to who I am today. Someone who has played a part in my life more than anyone else. Someone who was once more essential to me than breathing. And this is a story that can't be told without her.

The Visit

POV: Dakota

It's been three days, usually I would have gotten her letter by now.

"Nothing for me?" I ask the mail carrier.

"No, nothing today."

"Check again." I plead.

"Nothing Dakota, sorry." She walks off.

I sigh and sit down on my cot.

I wonder what the hold-up is.

My knee shakes as I sit still, tapping my fingers on my thighs in the order of 3, 4, 5, then, 1, 2. I stare at the desk and see her stack of letters all neatly folded and placed firmly in the corner, under the picture of Cali and the turkey footies.

She didn't answer my call yesterday, should I try again today?

I get up and walk 1, 2, 3, 4 steps to the entrance of my cell. I look both ways down the walkway making sure it's clear, before walking in the pattern of 1,2,3,4, all the way down to the phone station. Four is easy to walk in because there are an even number of stairs.

When I get to the phones I see Big Jess standing guard. I don't know her real name because that's what everyone calls her. She's a big, fat, manly-looking woman. Mean as a snake too. I quickly turn away.

"Hey, if it isn't Ditzy Dakota again." She calls out to me. "What's the matter? Your little sex slave get tired of you again?"

I know she's baiting me so I walk on.

"Blond Bimbo! I'm talking to you!" She calls after me.

I keep walking.

Then I hear her run after me and stiffen.

She slams me against the wall and holds my arm behind my back, I take sharp successful breaths and wait for the inevitable.

"What'd we tell you about walking away from us bitch? We own you in here," she shoves me harder into the wall.