“Amanda, he did not kill his girlfriend! I already read the charges. It was probably like he hit someone while speeding or he had a gun that accidentally went off. That is what manslaughter is. It's not murder. I looked it up already,” I plead, “So turn the computer off. I need you to be supportive. It's not like I have anyone else in my life that supports my decisions and this is important to me. He is the only person I have felt a connection to in a long time. Don't take that from me. Please.” “Oh, God. You don't have to get so emotional,” raising her body from the computer chair and meandering into the kitchen. She grabs a bottle of Pinot from the counter. I'm not much of a wine drinker but I always seem to have plenty around. A couple years ago Nancy had a wine party and I won some wine of the month club membership so every quarter I get delivered a box of wine. Who am I to complain about free booze, but I always wonder when this prize expires. Am I just going to get free w

Joel POV Once I realized who was on the other end of the phone, I was able to calm myself down. I don't understand why i was feeling so possessive about Miranda anyways since we haven't even defined this relationship. I just know that I want her. "So, I'm up for parole and my date is two days from now." I tell her. "Shit. Shit. Shit." Miranda said. "They didn't give you much notice, did they?""You know how it is baby," Joel sighed "Anything and everything they can do to make it that much harder.” I immediately tried to catch myself. There are enough problems that each of us have. There was no need to be negative and bring down one another during our phone time. This was the time that we should be enjoying each other's company."Look," I said. “I didn’t know whether or not to tell you because I didn't want you to get your hopes up but also I didn't want to keep secrets from you. There’s a really good chance that I will be denied. Most people have to go up for parole several ti

Joel POV I turned back on my music and kicked back on the bed again. I opened my emails; they were from Miranda of course, and I started to read. They were short because the longer ones seemed to drag ass getting to where they should. Heaven forbid the emails work like normal emails out there. She had sent a nice little card wishing me luck tomorrow for the parole interview. The other email mentioned that she was going to sleep and letting me know that she couldn't wait for the day that she could lay her head on my chest and drift off to sleep listening to my heart beat. The thought made me smile. The doors opened and a few people walked by waving. Everyone knew that parole interviews were taking place this week, making everyone nervous and reserved contemplating their possible release. The doors closed again and time seemed to creep by so fucking slowly today.Finally, the intercom buzzed. "Johnson," I heard through the static. "Time for your parole interview. Get dressed and rep

Joel POV I heard the lights click on and I peeked out from under the shirt I used to block the light from my eyes. I was assaulted by the brightness and then yelling over the pod intercom. “It's five thirty gentlemen. We have fifteen minutes before count. Today there will be a standing count and you will need to be properly dressed as there will be a female on the floor.”"God, I wish they would shut the fuck up." I hear Shotgun growl. I agree, but I just groan and roll over, facing the wall and covering back up my head. "It's that asshole Jones working today." I mumbled. I put on my shorts, t-shirt, socks, and slides on, thinking the same thing he normally does. I cannot bear to stand barefoot on the concrete. If I have to stand like that, I will stand on the sides of my feet. I also cannot stand the feel of cotton balls, q tips or the way Styrofoam rubs together. That is also why I don't eat popcorn, squeaks on my teeth. When I was younger, I saw an occupational therapist who

Joel POV I sat across the table from Miranda at McDonalds. I know it sounds terrible, but yes, this is what I wanted for my first meal out. Something I had missed, yet I knew would be recognizable and familiar. Miranda got up to place our order at the counter and I watched her walk across the dining room. Damn, she has a nice ass. I placed my back to a window so I could have a view of the whole dining room and I watched Miranda like a hawk as she stood in line, people standing too close to her for my liking, but I had to understand that out here, things were different. I didn't always have to choose the defensive position, eyes toward the door, in case something terrible went down. Out here people in general were disrespectful and didn't understand personal space, but it wasn't intentional or dangerous, it was just an example of their poor pragmatic skills. I remind myself it wouldn't be beneficial to her or me if I overreact to someone standing too close or bumping me. Then aga