Letters to Ezra

16/3/2017

Dear Juliet,

taking lives isn't so uncommon. We all take lives without even knowing, don't you think?

We lay our fingers on anything that shines and just do stuff without thinking. We say things that take lives everyday, Juliet, I'm really not that special. I mean, I am, but not when it comes to other people's lives.

Now that we've settled this, I want to answer your simple and straight-forward question: "how do you sleep at night?"

Well, I usually just lie on my stomach and lay my head on my hands so I can take a glance outside my cell every now and then. You can never be safe enough in prison, not even if you're me.

I've talked with various people in this institution and the only one that seems fairly smart enough to initiate a conversation that can actually be led is called Pete.

People don't call him Pete, though, they call him "Bloody Pete", but it just seems too long to pronounce to me.

Pete is serving two lifelong inprisonments and can fuck with his time as much as he wants since he's never getting outta here anyway.

Besides the fact that he's a gruesome murderer, which doesn't seem to bother me at all, the guy is great. He likes books, especially authors from Russia.

We oftenly talk about our former lives that we led outside the prison and he can't help but talk about his animals all the time.

He had a few dogs back in his house on the south and he talks about them quite a bit. Kind of boring,  to be honest.

How does a guy who likes dogs and cares so much for them decide to murder his wife with sliding a full boiling pot of oil down her throat?

Whatever.

I oftenly think about you, I won't lie. I was wondering about your life after my prosecution.

I want to touch you again and feel the shivers down your spine like I used to do. I don't know do you remember how we met, but I have been replaying the day in my head lately.

Not that I'm dying to see you, Juliebear. It's just a physical need.

I am glad you got your degree,  you deserve it. I remember all of the nights you used to spend under that nightlamp on the desk,  drinking coffe and repeating shit like a robot until you are done with all of it. Every last bit.

I knew you wouldn't get someone new,  someone else. You are still in love with me,  although you deny it.

Gotta go,  Pete is back from the playground. Looks like someone beat him up. Probably because of me again... But you already know the world spins because of me,  don't you babygirl?