He sat in silence, staring at the cold, gray prison walls. He recalled every detail as if it had happened only a moment ago. There were still the feelings of anger, sorrow, and terror lingering inside him, devouring him slowly. He began to shift his feet forward and backwards on the hard metallic floor, trying to forget this pain inside him. He had only moments before committed a horrible crime that he couldn’t recall fully without bursting into tears. Now, in complete consciousness of his actions he acknowledged that he was wrong. He had acted out of emotions and was suffering for this lack of judgment.

He was in complete despair. He began to entertain thoughts of life alone, without any companionship but the other criminals who didn’t seem to have any regrets or long for human friends as he did. All he wanted was to feel something other than remorse. Why can’t he escape this feeling, no longer did he wish to escape his barred cage, but only to stray from this horrible onus he had been carrying for so long. To be forgiven, to be cared for by anyone was a thought so enticing, it scarcely ever deserted him. He only wished that people could see past the pale striped clothing and into his bright hopeful eyes. However after the first month, the idea that someone could still cherish him, died along with all the hope he once possessed. His eyes were now filled with the same prosaic expression that was found on everyone’s faces as they marched around the prison.

This was the case every single day, the same thoughts that had once caused nightmares became his blood curdling reality and all he had once known became only a flight of fancy. This all changed one day. It was ordinary as ever, all the men waiting for recreation time, however, on this day they were all offered a piece of mail. The men avariciously grabbed the papers and began to read as best they could. He slowly pried his from the envelope and began to try and decipher the crayon scrawling on the blue construction paper. It read as though written by a child which he realized it was after scanning it carefully. He began to read it and discovered that it said:


Dear Friend,


Although mistakes are made, kindness can always be shown. Remember that you are always cared for.



With love,


Steve


He tried to contain himself , but all the hope and longing returned in that instance. Emotion he hadn’t felt in what seemed like years rushed through his veins and he was alive once more. The idea that someone cared, the idea that somebody could still love him, the idea that he could receive empathy from another person brought forth a new character inside him. No longer did he curse the days his hope remained, no longer did he torture himself over the many nights he lay awake dreaming of something more. He was now freed from his burden because the idea was no longer that, the idea became his refuge, his support, his joy. He found a new life in that one day, on that one card, and in that one idea.