“Amanda, he did not kill his girlfriend! I already read the charges. It was probably like he hit someone while speeding or he had a gun that accidentally went off. That is what manslaughter is. It's not murder. I looked it up already,” I plead, “So turn the computer off. I need you to be supportive. It's not like I have anyone else in my life that supports my decisions and this is important to me. He is the only person I have felt a connection to in a long time. Don't take that from me. Please.” “Oh, God. You don't have to get so emotional,” raising her body from the computer chair and meandering into the kitchen. She grabs a bottle of Pinot from the counter. I'm not much of a wine drinker but I always seem to have plenty around. A couple years ago Nancy had a wine party and I won some wine of the month club membership so every quarter I get delivered a box of wine. Who am I to complain about free booze, but I always wonder when this prize expires. Am I just going to get free w
Joel POV I woke with a startle to the cell doors opening. "Shit." he grumbled. He had been doing that a lot lately. Sleeping in. And grumbling, as a matter of fact. I knew today was the day I had to return the parole paperwork to the counselor but I felt like somehow it wasn't quite ready even though I must have been through ten drafts before finalizing it. Of course, I want to get out, but now its even more so. Now, with Miranda waiting on the outside, getting paroled has placed getting paroled as a higher priority. I stepped back into the cell and grabbed my blue shirt and paperwork.I walked down the stairs and wandered up to the front desk where the COs sat throughout the day. "Smith?" I said to the CO who had worked the floor for at least the last couple years. He was an older gentleman with gray hair and a rounded belly which won't be getting any smaller considering the amount of hostess cupcakes he eats in a day. I swear that guy has always got something in his mouth. "Whe
Joel POV Once I realized who was on the other end of the phone, I was able to calm myself down. I don't understand why i was feeling so possessive about Miranda anyways since we haven't even defined this relationship. I just know that I want her. "So, I'm up for parole and my date is two days from now." I tell her. "Shit. Shit. Shit." Miranda said. "They didn't give you much notice, did they?""You know how it is baby," Joel sighed "Anything and everything they can do to make it that much harder.” I immediately tried to catch myself. There are enough problems that each of us have. There was no need to be negative and bring down one another during our phone time. This was the time that we should be enjoying each other's company."Look," I said. “I didn’t know whether or not to tell you because I didn't want you to get your hopes up but also I didn't want to keep secrets from you. There’s a really good chance that I will be denied. Most people have to go up for parole several ti
Miranda POV The next two days went by as slowly as humanly possible. That day after hanging up the phone with Joel, I hung out with Amanda and we worked on letters of our own to send into the Virginia Parole Board along with wrangling some other friends that Amanda and I gathered up from our art classes and wine nights to write letters, too. All were friends and acquaintances who we knew are active in supporting causes such as judicial system injustices, unfair sentencing, etc. so they were happy to help us out. The next morning, I woke up to the sound of banging and Beebs barking and growling at the front door. “Who the hell is waking us up on a Saturday morning?” I asked Beebs as I walked toward the door, still wearing my night shirt and slippers. As if she could answer me even if she knew. I peek out the side window and see a familiar face, holding a steaming paper cup sporting the logo from my favorite coffee shop up the road. I eagerly opened the door, grabbing the cup as I
Joel POV I turned back on my music and kicked back on the bed again. I opened my emails; they were from Miranda of course, and I started to read. They were short because the longer ones seemed to drag ass getting to where they should. Heaven forbid the emails work like normal emails out there. She had sent a nice little card wishing me luck tomorrow for the parole interview. The other email mentioned that she was going to sleep and letting me know that she couldn't wait for the day that she could lay her head on my chest and drift off to sleep listening to my heart beat. The thought made me smile. The doors opened and a few people walked by waving. Everyone knew that parole interviews were taking place this week, making everyone nervous and reserved contemplating their possible release. The doors closed again and time seemed to creep by so fucking slowly today.Finally, the intercom buzzed. "Johnson," I heard through the static. "Time for your parole interview. Get dressed and rep
Miranda POV Mondays are my least favorite day of the week. Not only do I have to wake up two hours earlier than on the weekend, but it also usually takes me half a day to get my mind back on track mentally with the language project. If I had any other job, it probably wouldn't take so long, however, the complexities of the dialectical differences are so important in my work, even a minor mistake could have disastrous results and could set us back months. Today is especially sucky since I know Joel is going through his parole interview and I am worried about the result. The only way I can describe it is as a feeling of helplessness. Even though we just found out two days ago that he was even up for parole, it seems that as soon as that information hit my prefrontal cortex, I immediately started making plans for our future. Fantasies about coming home to him after a long day at work, eating dinners together and relaxing with Beebs on the couch have filled my daydreams. At night, im
Joel POV I heard the lights click on and I peeked out from under the shirt I used to block the light from my eyes. I was assaulted by the brightness and then yelling over the pod intercom. “It's five thirty gentlemen. We have fifteen minutes before count. Today there will be a standing count and you will need to be properly dressed as there will be a female on the floor.”"God, I wish they would shut the fuck up." I hear Shotgun growl. I agree, but I just groan and roll over, facing the wall and covering back up my head. "It's that asshole Jones working today." I mumbled. I put on my shorts, t-shirt, socks, and slides on, thinking the same thing he normally does. I cannot bear to stand barefoot on the concrete. If I have to stand like that, I will stand on the sides of my feet. I also cannot stand the feel of cotton balls, q tips or the way Styrofoam rubs together. That is also why I don't eat popcorn, squeaks on my teeth. When I was younger, I saw an occupational therapist who
Miranda POV I sit in a rental car outside the gates of the Virginia State prison and wait for the bus to drop off Joel. After hearing about his parole approval, I decided I wanted to be there for his first day out and once the details were released, I requested time off from work and booked my travel arrangements. I mean, I don't know for sure what this day means, but I thought it might be one of those special days a person would always remember like your prom or your wedding day, and I wanted to be a part of that memory. When I told him I wanted to come, he did seem happy or maybe he was relieved. Maybe I am overthinking this whole thing and it would be just another day of his life or worse, a day of stress and uncertainty. Either way, here I am. I also can't deny the thought that after over ten years the man might be horny and if anyone should reap the benefits of that, then it might as well be me. There’s definitely enough sexual tension between us. If all else fails, at lea