Prison Pen Pals Novels & Stories

Jake sat in his cell, his head bent low over a table as he wrote on a piece of paper. He’s been getting letters from Mark for the last four days. And it was almost time for them to swap letters again. Mark always came at the same time every day. With a cup of coffee for both and chocolate. They’d spend an hour just talking and then they’d exchange letters. He found himself looking forward to those letters almost as much as their daily visit. Even resenting his prison, he felt calmer, happier, knowing that Mark would come to him. His head snapped up as he heard the door open at the top of the stairs, and Mark came walking down. Since he was the only one down there now, they’d left lights on,

At this time, Elaine looked at the female prison guard before slowly putting down the magazine in her hand as she said with some dissatisfaction, “Lucia, it’s not that I want to complain about you, but the magazines that you’ve been delivering to me these days are all too boring. The stories in the magazines are bad, vulgar, and not educational at all. Can’t you get me a few copies of ‘Soulmates’ instead?” “‘Soulmates’?” The female prison guard was a native Oskian-American, so she did not know what Soulmates was at all. So, she asked nervously, “Elaine, what is this ‘Soulmates’ you’re talking about?”

I carefully stated, earning al light shrug from the inmate. “Well, when you have a neighbor who does not know when to shut up and let go about the things that just happens in life, you’ll hear some interesting stories,” he stated, hinting that it truly was Anton who spilled the beans. “Besides, you’ll find that prison is not that much of a boot camp as most people seem to see it as. Sure, there are no games or televisions here, but at least they give out books and newspapers to help us pass time.”

She clasped her hands together, her eyes locked with Ryan's, silently urging him to continue. Ryan, still catching his breath, continued, "The facility is known as Citadel Penitentiary. It's a maximum-security prison located deep within the outskirts. It houses some of the most dangerous criminals in the country. Getting access won't be easy, but I assure you, we'll do everything we can to help reunite you with Kristen."

"Been a long time, Severin! Our classmates couldn't stop talking about what happened to you. None of us expected that a top student like yourself would go to prison! And it's even surprising to see that you've been released so soon! You must've received a reduced sentence after behaving yourself in there!" Then, the man thought for a while and added, "It's five years, right? Tsk, tsk. Five long years! I can't even begin to imagine it! How does prison food taste, by the way? You're the only one in our class who has experienced it, you have to tell us what it tastes like!"

"They need me, not me needing them. So, just cancel it, we they don't accept it, cancel the cooperation with them, and give a warning so that no branch of the company cooperates with them." The man holding an iPad and wearing glasses could only swallow his saliva; he stared at the back of his superior's back. Melvin's words were true; so many people had come to him to make him an investor. Rejecting them was a natural thing for his boss. Not a few companies had cancelled appointments with that man, getting blocked from the list of companies getting funds from Melvin for insisting on meeting with that man in person. "Alright, I'll cancel all your schedules today," he continued. "So, I cancel

I didn’t tell your cousin I was writing to you, but I’m fine with you telling her if you want Anyways, have a good one, Miranda Well, that is not exactly what I was expecting. Someone actually wants to talk to me? To be my penpal? I can't help but wonder what is wrong with this chick, writing to an inmate. She’s probably butt ugly or has no arms. Well, I know she has at least one arm, the letter is handwritten. Over the last nine years, I have had a couple other people write to me, but they were mostly people from churches and they were more interested in talking about their religion than actually getting to know me or letting me get to know them. “What's it say?” Shotgun asks, breaking my

Maxine. "Maxine Carlisle! Your bail's been posted... you're free to go!" the prison cell I was confined in opend, and I was finally free to leave. I've heard a lot of people complaining about how terrible their experiences in jail were... but to be honest, it actually isn't that bad! A couple of roaches here, and a few rats there, but that's basically about it! Nothing as bad as they make it sound like in the movies. But then again, I've only been here for like, I don't know, an hour? Those guys have spent years, even decades in here! So some people might argue that my 'jail term' doesn't exactly count... well I still argue that it does!

I reply, grinning up at him. And then we all pack inside the taxi, determined to have a good time and ignore our real lives for one more day. Because tomorrow? Tomorrow it really begins. One hundred miles away in a state prison, Kent sits staring at his hands. It’s recreation hour – a forced activity. If it were up to Kent, he’d stay in his cell rather than come to this room with all of its shouting and noise. Most of the other prisoners like it – it’s some of their only time to socialize, to play cards, to watch TV. He would rather be alone.

Chapter Eight: The Not Happening List Lyric POV On my way out of Pizza n' Stuff, I turned on my phone so the messages could rush in using the restaurant WiFi. Employees only got to use it during breaks and after hours. I did not expect a lot of people to contact me since my circle was limited to Wren and J, but we don't talk anymore. I wondered how he was doing. J was my pen pal from back when I was living at a group home. We separated, and he gave me an email to contact him. It was his grandmother's, while I used my father's.