Chapter 35 Darius
Darius
Locking up behind me, I turn the lamp on in the living room and see the envelope addressed to me perched against the fruit bowl. It’s the fourth one I’ve received since she lost her shit with me on the last visit she let me come to.
She’s much softer in her letters, much more vocal about her feelings and her fears, goals, and dreams. I soak in every word she writes, rereading them repeatedly every night.
Time’s moving on, each day like a month and some days I can deal, and some days, it takes everything I have not to lash out at everyone around me.
Shutting down the house, I make my way to my room and kick my boots off.
I check on Elsa, sleeping in her cot, and I kick back on the bed, tearing into the envelope.
Her writing is always neat and easy to read.
Darius,
I don’t know whether I look forward to the photos of Elsa you send or dread them.
I love seeing her little face, her big brown eyes so much like yours and her hair growing long enough to curl.
But it hurts so much seeing how big she’s getting and knowing I’m missing it all.
I read your letters every day, inhaling every detail you tell me about her.
Sometimes I feel like I’m stuck in a nightmare I can’t wake up from.
A never-ending cycle of torture I never knew existed.
I’m a mom without her baby and I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.
It’s not only my cries I hear at night, but other mothers also missing their babies.
But it’s only my tears I feel. I’ve forgotten what it feels like to not fall asleep on a damp pillow.
But it reminds me I have a reason to count down the days.
You’re both my reason. It’s you two that I dream of when I do find sleep.
I dream of us at the beach, Elsa running in the sand and laughing when you splash her as we paddle on the shoreline.
I dream of us pushing her on the swings at the park, the sun shining over us and sharing a picnic.
I have so many dreams but then I wake and all I see is the bunk above me and I’m back to reality.
And my reality is now taking yoga classes taught by a woman who shot her husband because he beat on her, and she felt she had no other choice. She seems nice enough, been in here for eighteen years, but I still keep my distance.
The one thing I hate most about this place is how slow times passes, yet it feels like the outside passes by in the blink of an eye. I fill my days with as much as I can but it’s never enough. Tell me everything you’ve been doing this last week.
Amelia.
I rest her letter above my notepad and start with her pain over Elsa.
My sweet Amelia,
I can’t imagine how it must feel to be away from our daughter.
It kills me to know you’re in pain, but I don’t want you to miss out on anything.
I take pictures of her every day. Your dad takes videos so you can watch them when you get home.
She laughs now, your dad was pulling funny faces at her, and she giggled.
It blew us away, but it was a bitter-sweet moment because you weren’t there.
I was so angry when I found out you were pregnant and you were keeping it, I didn’t want to bring children into this world but the night she was born, I knew no matter how ugly this world got, I’d only let her see the beauty.
I’ve failed her already, because of me she’s denied the most beautiful sight in the world. You. Her mama.
She’s sleeping now, in her crib, in my room.
She’ll be due a bottle soon and when she cries after, it’s not because she’s still hungry, it’s because she knows you’re not here.
I tell her about you every single day, every night, every time I bathe her, every chance I get.
She’ll never forget you, I swear that to you, Amelia.
Our daughter will always know her mama. I need you to believe that and hold onto it.
She’ll be the first thing you see when you walk out of there and she’ll be the first thing you hold and smell.
She’s just spent the weekend with your dad, he brought her back last night.
I’m sure he told you already, he took her to his offices, I think he’s hoping she’ll learn to read before she learns to talk.
He’s already talking about setting up a library in one of the many rooms at your house, filling it with all the children’s books he can find.
It wouldn’t surprise me if she could read before anything else.
She loves to look at the colorful pictures.
She’s going to be smart. I can see it in her eyes.
She’s going to be like you, beauty and brains.
I hope she gets nothing from me. When I think about the future, I see her going off to college, surrounded by friends and she’s happy, Amelia, she’s so happy I sit wondering how because she came from me.
When I first told my grandmother you were pregnant, she told me the baby would be the making of me, but she was wrong.
It was meeting you. I look back and see how the way I used to be started changing when I met you.
I’m going to make this right for you but until then, know that I think of you every day and I still want to visit, please change your mind, and add me on your list.
All my love, Darius.
Folding the papers in half, I slide them into an envelope and write down her prison number and the address. Placing it under my keys, I check on Elsa and then undress for bed.
Keeping the lamp on, I pull out all of Amelia’s letters and read them from the first one.
If I could just set eyes on her, I’d know for sure she’s truly doing okay.
Our contacts inside update me but that’s only as far as other inmates causing trouble.
I need to see her to know she isn’t sinking into herself.
I’ve seen prison break men bigger than me.
Stronger than me. It’s one thing believing what she writes to be true, but it could be a load of bullshit on her end.
Elsa whimpers in her sleep and I lean over to see into her crib.
She sometimes goes back to sleep but sometimes, like now, the whimpers turn into cries and there’s no chance of her falling back to sleep.
Throwing the sheets back, I get up to her and head to the kitchen to warm up a bottle.
Amelia’s worried she will forget her but like I promised, I’ll never let that happen.