030.

                                    

                                          
"it sounds plausible enough tonight, but wait until tomorrow. wait for the common sense of the morning."
-h.g. wells
                          
it was visitation day in the prison. a day when convicted criminals got to meet with their family, their friends, their lovers. a day that was supposed to be a glimmer of hope for better things to come.
                          
it was supposed to be all these things, but for Dally it was not. sylvia hadn't so much as accepted one of his calls, and the only thought he could conjure was ones about how she was probably out hanging all over his friends now that he was gone.
                          
his parents probably couldn't even care enough to notice he was gone. never mind so much as sending him a letter acknowledging his existence.
                          
of course, there was the gang, but that was a rarity they could take the time to drive an hour and a half to the reformatory prison and come to visit him for only thirty minutes.
                          
and so, like it was second nature by now, his mind settled on the thought of venus. 
                          
if he hadn't been so rough, so cold to her, would she have visited? if he swallowed his pride for just a moment and have written a have decent letter back to her, would she have spared some time to give him her company in this dull gray, concrete box?
                          
watching fellow prisoners, one by one get called to the visitation room, and it never being him, bothered Dally. of course, he would never admit it, not even to himself, but it really bugged him. 
                          
this box he had locked his feelings inside, surrounded by yards of barbed wire and a steel master lock could not be opened. for if it was, there was no telling what mess the boy might become.
                          
his cell mate had been gone, reuniting with some odd family members he had no care for, when it happened. his own glimmer of hope appeared.
                          
he wanted to excuse the rapid beating in his heart when the guard handed him a white envelope, but he couldn't. could she have really written back? after he was so harsh with her, could she have still persisted?
                          
Dally wanted to slam his head against the metal posts, try to rid himself of the obscene thoughts that littered his mind every time he had a moment to think. venus was just some stupid broad, with a stupid name, and a stupid stubbornness.
                          
there was nothing special about her.
                          
at least that's what he had to tell himself to stop the box he kept inside from threatening to bust opened at the hinges.
                          
the space between them must have been unholy, the way it made him think thoughts and feel things he would never want to feel. but after reading her careful handwriting, it became clear that if he continued anything with her, then this wooden box might be forced open.
                          
still, like venus was a good reason for everything to fall apart, he wrote back. perhaps it was the intense loneliness that being stuck between these four walls held, or maybe it was the way she signed her name with intricate swirls, but he couldn't go another moment without seeing her words— like they were the one sense of sanity in all the madness.
                          
venus,
                          
unlucky for me i did read your letter.
and you were right...
you are a nuisance.
                          
but since im feeling like being sociable today, ill write you this:
it's just a stupid cat. get over it.
                          
stop letting the little shit bother you.
and if i ever see you ask me how im doing again i will be the next person to throw a brick through your window.
                          
stop trying, youre still not my friend,
Dally
                          
Of course, that letter was a crude version of what Dally had really meant to say. the boy hadn't been to good with words, never mind expressing feelings, never mind writing them down.
                          
but perhaps, if he said what he had really meant in an effective way, it would have sounded more like:
                          
venus,
                          
yeah, you're letters are annoyingly persistent, but they are the only thing i have to look forward to in this shitbox.
                          
and i don't know why you trusted me to tell all this to, but you seriously need to stop worrying about little things like what other people think, and why the world is as unfair as it is.
                          
i don't want you to worry about me, because you clearly have enough to worry about in your own life, and that's what you need to focus on.
                          
maybe you're not my friend now, but i could see a world where you could be, if only you could show me that,
Dally
                          
but that's not what he said.
                          
though he meant it, it was not what he said.
                          
that would be a message for venus to decode, if she ever could, and if she did, perhaps Dally could see, once and for all, that she was not like sylvia, or his parents, or any other person who hurt him when he let himself slip up and be vulnerable.
                          
if she could be the person he had made her out to be in his head, then maybe one day his letters would be a little longer, and his sign off would be a little friendlier.