The Yang to my Yams: Escape Love Island
“Open up on cell two-twenty!”
The door buzzes and a tall man, six feet seven in height, walks out the cell with a cardboard box full of belongings in his hands. He looks right and left and then looks back in his cell with a smirk of satisfaction. He got his last look at the hot box which kept his mind in the grinder for the past fifteen years. Time had taken its last go round and he was finally on his way home to Idris, New England.
A green 12-inch shoe box was left on his bunk as he walked away from the cell. The sunlight peeked through the cracks of the window, shining a spotlight on it. The guard quickly stops the man, grabbing him by the arm. The guard noticed he left the box on the base of the bed and hadn’t touched it. “Aye! Hold on. You forgot something.” He walks in the cell, grabs the box and tries to give it to the man; he simply looks at the guard smiling with shutter eyes.
“That’s not mine. Somebody else gave it to me, but I don’t need it. God ahead, keep it, it's yours.”
Looking confused, the guard simply tucked the box under his left armpit and proceeded to walk the inmate down the hall toward the release area. They gave him some release papers to sign, he got dressed in the same business suit he last wore fifteen years ago, and he was on his way home never to be seen again. A month later, a new worker in the inmate property department was sorting through bags where the inmate clothes are usually sent home after being incarcerated. After lifting the last bag on her shift toward the truck, she realized it was very heavy.
She slammed it to the ground and a box fell to the ground with a whole bunch of papers flying out. “What in God's name…”
She squatted down, picking up all the papers and stuffing them inside the box. One paper got away and slid under the desk becoming stuck under the leg of the chair. Noticing it and picking it up, she realized there was a kiss of green lipstick printed on the corner of the paper. Her eyes narrowed onto the paper as her thumb rubbed the lipstick on the paper and got onto her pearly white button up shirt.
“Dammit,” she quietly exclaimed. “What is this?” She would think since it’s been on the paper for a while it would have dried up by now.
Rubbing her fingertips together and smelling it, her face squinted with disgust. She had recognized that scent before. It was Dove shampoo with a hint of soot and Crayola crayon. Sitting in a chair next to her, crossing both her legs, she began to read the paper and with a closer look, realized it was a letter.
Written in black ink at the top it read:
The Bird ate the Butterfly: A tragic end
Minutes passed by and turned into hours. The bags began to stack, and footsteps came rushing from behind. “Tameraaaa!” Jumping out the chair she dropped a stack of papers on the desk and stood up straight, looking down into a man’s eyes. He was five foot three with the attitude of a terrible two-year old and the beard of a transvestite prostitute. Barking up a storm, he made it very clear that she left her job undone and how he didn’t have time to babysit debutante workers who have simple duties.
Tamera was told to pack the last few bags and then go home early. Irritated, she shrugged him off and grabbed her things to go home. Before walking completely away, she quickly locked eyes with the letters on her desk. It was like they were calling out, screaming and begging her to take them home to be read. She swiftly grabbed a stack of letters and stuffed them inside her purse. Security at the exit would usually check all her bags thoroughly for contraband before exiting the building, but this day he ate a tray of burritos on the shift and had to use the bathroom.
So, he quickly peeked in her bag, passed her on without a thorough search and sprinted to the bathroom before having a toilet baby in his pants. Keeping a poker face of satisfaction, she walked out the prison and drove home fast. Throwing all her things on the floor she rushed to the bedroom and slammed the door. Starting off where she last read, she decided to start all over and read it again. The story was something never recorded in prison history. And the letter went as proceeded:
The Bird ate the Butterfly: A Tragic End
Farewell Gift
February 07, 2028
My love, we have been talking for fourteen years now. How are you? It is hard to believe I would ever meet my soulmate in circumstances like these. For the first time I can say time was on our side and not against us.
A bird who flies by every morning and a cobweb spider had been my only two friends while doing time upstate. Now it’s just me and you. A few other inmates here done did some hard times, even longer than we both have put together and kept all their right minds.
A new girl next door got here for stabbing her best friend in the throat with a corkscrew; the friend survived but she got 8-10 years for attempted murder. I never sat and thought about if my victims were to live today or not, but If I hadn’t skinned them alive with a butter knife, I wouldn’t have met you, my darling.
Did you ever think about why God created murderers like you and me? Were we born just to take the life of another people? Is that our purpose?
Maybe you could answer those for me. Either way I have no regrets. Did you like the gift I sent you? I had to bribe a guard for five packs of cigarettes and a wire of money to his account to get that. For that I get to have more paper and write to you for as long as I need. He even gave me a few pens so that I can write to you in as many colors as I want. Count is starting soon, so I must go. I can’t wait to hear back from you again. It is almost time...
P.S. Watch the stars as Orion Belt shines the brightest at dawn.
Sincerely yours for life,
-Kaiser Swallowtail
Another letter was written in return to the other. This particular letter also had a mark; a small bird printed on the corner at the top of the letter. This letter went as proceeded:
Retrograde Blues
February 17, 2028
My darling, so sweet you have become to me. Has it been fourteen years? Wow.
It feels like time just couldn’t wait. I used to hate time because I couldn’t control it. But now, as you said, time has given us the space to talk and fall in love. I laughed so hard when you said that girl stabbed her best friend. What a crazy bitch she is huh? I mean, honestly, I find it so funny how the closest who loves you will burn you the worst.
Maybe because I was that friend at some point. I’m sure your victims deserved it. You have a good heart and an open soul. People like you should be the executioners of this new world, not these rich pansies who are fed with a silver spoon. But the righteous poor who fight to live and fight to love every day.
Me and you are those poor righteous killers who kill with purpose and passion. No fleeting feelings were caught in the wind when I killed my victims. Pure silence and pleasure took place in my mind. A calming peace overcame my spirit, like I did them justice for taking them out of such a cold world. I guess you could say I felt my purpose flow through me. But guess what? My purpose has become greater since you came into my world. I thought the spark in my life died out until I saw you on the news and received your first letter.
Whoa! Haha. You paid five cigs and a wire for it huh? Unfortunately, I did not get your gift yet, my love. These fucking slugs who work behind these walls tend to move slow on weekends. I won’t be surprised if I get it for another week or two. But I’ll be on the lookout for it in the next few days. To answer your question, I have been great.
One more year in this shit hole and it's back to freedom and back to who I’m meant to be. Looking forward to your next letter, my soulmate…my forever flower. Take care of yourself. Talk to you soon.
P.S. I looked upon the sky at dawn and your right. It did shine the brightest. My question is, when will Mars be seen amongst the stars? I’m hoping soon. I love that planet.
From my heart to yours,
-Chrys P. Pheasant
These letters were the last records of the most thought out, if not wisest, escape to ever take place in the history of the U.S.A.
The two prisoners were never found and soon after...Tamera wasn't either.
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