Chapter 25: Amber

Amber was an acquaintance. She was never involved in the crimes, and the only contact I had with her other than school was the incident with the circle. After I had stopped talking to James, they started seeing each other. I had given my address out to friends, but no letters came. Fast forward a few months and I finally got called for mail. Amber asking how I was. Initially, I decided not to write her back, but since I had not received even one letter, I replied. We began writing each other up until my release. In that time, I had received only two other letters.

Both were from a sex offender my father knew through prison ministry. He told me about how the district attorney was messing around with his wife, and how they framed him into a molestation charge against his three year old son. He asked for photos of my sister. I flushed the letter.

The second letter was him stating that he had been granted parole, and that he had planned on moving to my hometown. My father had given him permission to do so. Again, he asked for photos of my sister. I wrote him back and told him I would shoot him in the face if his shadow as much as touched my family‘s door.

The letters to Amber were mostly me telling her about plans I had for the outside. I wanted to be a renaissance man. I had interests in art, writing and music, and I had planned on pursuing them. I sent short stories that she would transcribe onto a word processor and send them back to me printed out. Most of the time, the censors would mark out large portions of my stories that were sent back to me with a fat black marker.

The letters from her were usually upbeat. I knew she was trying to make me feel better. She would tell me about what my friends were up to on the outside, and how when I got out there would be a party. She was aware of the fact that she was the only person writing me. Her boyfriend, Bill was one of my best friends, but he was jealous about our correspondence.

The letters changed a month before my release. He was hitting her. He cheated on her with young girls. He called her “fat cow” as a term of endearment, but she wouldn’t leave him because she loved him. She began telling me that I was a better person than him, and that if I wanted, she would be there for me when I got out. I was not interested in a relationship, but thanked her.

On the outside, things are different. Amber and Bill showed up at my house the first day out, she pulled me aside and told me that Bill was better now. I believed her and continued my friendship.

She came to my house crying in the middle of the night. She had bruises. One of her ears was ripped from where he had tried to pull it off. She said her ass had been bleeding for a week – he had used a broom stick. I wanted to kill him, but she refused to let me leave the house. I told her to report it, she refused again. We drank. She told me I was her only friend. She put her hands on my thigh, kissed me, told me I owed her for all the letters. I said no. She persisted, then began crying about being fat and ugly. I felt bad for her and complied. As soon as this happened, she changed into a totally different person.

More rules.

Lights out, always. It never lasted long and I rarely finished. I could only do it with my eyes shut thinking of someone else, once again disgusted with myself. It was never supposed to be a relationship, we both agreed. Soon she began to come over each day, and drove off my other female friends. She was jealous, easily going into a rage if she found out that I talked to another girl. She threatened to kill any ex who I talked to.

I asked about the lights. She told me that the sight of my naked body was disgusting to her. I became dependant on her for self esteem, walking on egg shells in fear of her rages.

Sex with her was a chore. If I wasn’t into it, she would scream at me, and call me a faggott. I would only do it when she asked, and always with my eyes shut. I would fake orgasms to get it over with quicker, then go cry in the bathroom, holding a razor to my arm, wishing for courage to just get it over with. She constantly compared me to Bill, saying even though he was abusive, he was a better lay.

I fantasized about violating my probation to go back to the unit. I missed it and my friends there. The controlled environment was a comfort compared to the chaos outside, and Amber’s rules, but I never had the courage. All I could do was comply with her demands.

I told her I was unhappy, she told me I owed her for writing me when nobody else did. She used this as a weapon to keep me in the relationship. It was years before I had the courage to break up with her, but by then I had absolutely zero self esteem and the damage had been done.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s