Everyone told me that prison was going to be terrible, but it's actually more like a sleep away camp.  Only difference is some of the campers are kind of disgusting.  They just don't try.  

 

I've had a lot of time to think about the way things transpired last year.  I probably shouldn't have hit Ed Preston in the head like I did.  But I know you'll agree that he kinda had it coming.  And, I will not be blackmailed.  Gross old pervert, he actually thought he was smarter than me. 

 

I've been writing to Miranda every day.  The first few got returned to me and I blame the post office.  But the rest have gotten through okay.

 

I doubt she's still angry with me.  She never could hold a grudge and we go way back.  And deep down, I think our fight at Haynes Pond brought us closer together.  When I get out, she's the first person I'm going to go see.  I can just imagine her face.  She'll play hard to get, but our friendship runs deep.  She'll come around.

 

"Hey, Missy,"  a tall mixed race girl leans into the doorway of my cell. "You gonna go to the library? "

 

I look up from where I'm sitting and shake my head.  Irene is crazy.  She was a prostitute.  The stories she tells are hysterical.  There ain't nothing that 'ho wouldn't do for a buck.  But she's the closest thing to a friend I've got here.

 

"You writing to that girl again?"

 

"I am."

 

Irene shakes her head.  "Sounds like a waste of time.  She never wrote you back."

 

"She's just been busy."

 

"Hell, it's been a year.  She is playing you for a fool."

 

Irene needs to be careful.  Several of the girls in here owe me favors.  Irene is my friend, but, friend or not, sometimes you need to teach people a lesson.  "I'll go with you on Thursday."

 

Without a word, Irene turns and walks away.

 

There is a little part of me that wants to tell Miranda about Dougie.  She said a decent person would tell.  I'm decent. For shit's sake, I was one of the richest women in Patterson.  I wasn't some low life.  I'm a strong, independent woman.  I took care of things.  Miranda should have respected that.  Maybe she was just jealous.  I don't know.  All I do know is I've forgiven her for her mistakes.

 

I tap the pad in my lap and start my daily letter.

 

Dear Miranda,

 

Hope you're doing well.  I miss seeing you.  It was fun always running into you around town.  Are you still watching  that kid?  You really should turn him over to Social Services.  He's taking advantage of you.  You know that, right?

 

I was thinking about our little fight.  We both got so wound up.  I know I said somethings that I regret, and I'm sure you feel the same.

 

One of the girls here is getting released next month.  I told her you might be able to get her a job at that gas station you work at.  Hope you don't mind.  I just figure that between the two of us, we could help her out.

 

Just wondering if Dougie ever turned up. Lol.  Where, oh where, could he be?

 

Write back.  I miss my BFF.

 

Love ya, girl,

Missy

 

I tear the letter free and slip it into the envelope that has Forsythe County Women's Correctional Facility stamped in the return address spot.

 

I toss it onto the desk that's fastened to the wall, then go back to the bunk.  

 

I close my eyes and think about the last time I saw him, worthless, vain Dougie Wilcox.  He was so easy to manipulate.  I really did save Miranda from falling back into his web.  Of course, she'd never admit it, but she would have gone right back to him.  But I'm a good friend.  I took care of it for her.  It's a debt I'll never ask her to repay.  Because I'm a good friend.  

 

I'll always be her friend.