Page 2 of Our Secrets and Scars

I can’t believe you wrote back to me. Seriously, I never expected a letter in return, and now that I’ve got one, I don’t even know what to say.

I could tell you a bit about me, I suppose? I don’t know if you’ll be interested, but it seems a better idea than asking your favorite color. (Mine’s pink, by the way. I’m a girly girl like that.) I’m fourteen, turning fifteen in January, and I’m half Greek, half Columbian. It sounds cool, but I can’t speak either language even though my parents are both natives of their countries. Best I can say istu puta madre. I’ve heard Papa yell it when he bangs into things or gets mad at other drivers for as long as I can remember. But it took me until last year to learn that it means “motherfucker,”

Until the accident, I didn’t really try in school. But now that I’ve got no friends, there isn’t anything else to do with my time other than study. I’ve got my GPA up to a 3.7, but my parents won’t be happy until it’s a 4.0 like my sister, Bexley, had until she died. I’m not sure it’s something I’m capable of, but I want to make my parents proud, so I’ll keep trying. My favorite subjects are Law and Political Studies because I want to be a lawyer someday.

Love, Kinsley

P.S. I’m glad I made you smile

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Inmate #7492

Southwest Idaho Juvenile Detention Center

222 N 12th Ave

Caldwell, ID 83605

Kinsley,

We’ve been exchanging letters for a few months now and I don’t even know your favorite movie. Mine, though it might surprise you, isPerks of Being a Wallflower,and no, it’s not just because I think Emma Watson is hot. We watched it during free time last week, and I guess I saw a lot of myself in it. I think that if you watched it, you’d see yourself in it too because it’s kind of a celebration of misfits, of being different and misunderstood. It makes me feel seen, I guess. Watch it. Hopefully, it does the same for you.

Juvie’s not so bad, you know? We get access to education and recreation, social services, incentives, and even drug support for those who need it. It’s just something I’ve been thinking about now that I’ve turned seventeen and have less than a year left here. The weight of knowing I’ll be transferred to Idaho State as soon as I turn eighteen has been hanging heavy in my mind. I’ve heard bad things about prison, Kinsley. And I don’t want to go. The more I think about it, the quicker the days pass and the closer I get until the time comes.

But it’s my fault I’m here, so what right do I have to be fearful? Maybe I should have thought more about the implications of my decisions during the events that led to my arrest. Maybe if I had, I wouldn’t be here right now. But I didn’t. So, who can I blame but myself?

One day, though. One day, I’ll make a life for myself that’s positive. I’ll make art; I’ll create things; I’ll see color every day instead of the dull gray that surrounds me everywhere here. And all of this will just be a bad memory—a blip in my life that will have passed and given way to something brighter. Maybe I’ll even live abroad, who knows? Europe sounds nice. Maybe I’ll go there.

Sorry for the rant today, Kinz. I’ll try to be more positive next time.

Always, Fletcher

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Kinsley Garcia

1152 Llamarada Blvd.

Twin Falls, ID 83301

Dear Fletcher,

I don’t know what to say to make this any better for you other than to remember that it’s temporary. You’re right, one day, it will be over, and you’ll live a normal life. Try to focus on that, I suppose.

But I want you to know you’re strong enough to get through it. Whatever comes your way, you’ll be okay. You’ll survive. I know you will. Maybe you’ll even end up stronger for it. And I’ll be here, if you need me, to vent to or distract or even tell you crappy jokes I find on the internet to make you smile. You’re my friend now. Let me be here for you.

On a happier note, have you considered Greece? It’s always been a dream of mine to move to Athens. I’ve even got posters of the white pillars of Acropolis hanging in my bedroom. I’ve never been, but it’s where my mom’s from, and she used to tell Bexley and me all about what it was like to grow up there. She’d talk about the urban charm of the city and the deep cyan blue of the ocean. Bex never cared about it as much as I did, but it all seems so romantic to me. I can picture myself living out there, you know? Sipping wine on a balcony in a flowing white dress, my skin burned from hours spent reading Greek mythology in the blazing sun. Sounds perfect to me.

My parents are calling me, so I’ll cut my letter short. But I’ll be thinking of you.

Love, Kinsley

P.S. I like it when you call me Kinz.

Two years ago

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