Letters From Cages

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Adam asked as he walked me to my front door later that afternoon. I clutched the picture of me in my hand and turned to look up at him. He honestly did seem like a genuine person, and I was grateful that he didn't ask me why exactly a burnt picture of me was in an abandoned junk yard that I had taken him to. I didn't even know why.

“Yes, of course,” I replied with a smile. Adam nodded and played with his own car keys in his hand.

“Hey, listen,” He began and shifted on his feet. “Even though this day was rather peculiar, would you like to do it again sometime?”

It was then my turn to shift awkwardly. This conversation reminded me strikingly of the incident that happened in high school, except this time Carter wasn't here to cockily break it up.

“Um,” I finally spoke. Adam grinned.

“No, I mean, if you ever need someone to help you out with anything, I’m here. As a friend,” Adam stated. I smiled.

“Sure, that sounds fine,” I replied.

"Great, well then I'll be seeing you," Adam responded and then walked towards his small Volkswagon car. I turned around and walked up the two steps that led to my front door and opened it. When I stepped back inside the warm house, I glanced back down at the picture. What the real eerie part of this all was, is that I didn't even recognize the picture, I don't remember it ever being taken. I was wearing a plain white blouse that I remember getting a long time ago but I never really wore it out. I wasn't looking at the camera, instead my eyes seemed to be looking more to the left of it. The background was blurred, full of greens and browns, as if I was walking outside. At the time, I had no idea this picture was being taken of me. And that is what creeped me out the most.

I walked further into the house to see my grandmother sitting at the dining room table and my dad making something on the stove. I slowly walked in, feeling on edge and wanting to know more but then not wanting to know at the same time.

"Gwenith, are you all right?" My father asked while stirring something with boiling water. "You look pale."

"I'm fine," I replied and sat down at the table across from my grandmother. She gave me a small smile which surprised me, she never really smiled much, let alone directed towards me. But my thoughts quickly jumped from her and back to the picture and I couldn't take it anymore. "I'll be back in an hour." I added and then quickly turned my heel to run back out of my house.

"But Gwenith, I'm making-"

I didn't hear the rest of my dad's statement for I was already out of the house and into my car, driving away to Carter's parent's house.



I remember roses seeming to always find their way to my doorstep the days after my birthday. The first morning there was one, later that afternoon, there was three. More and more seemed to show up and the more that did, the more I just kept adding them to a pile to donate to Freigle's to give to their customers. I avoided Carter at school, I ignored his phone calls, and tried my best to stand my ground. But all while going on this little 'I'm confident enough to be angry with him for more than 10 minutes' routine, I knew that I would forgive him, there was no mistaking that I could never stay angry with Carter Wright for too long.

After getting off work later on in the week, on a particularly cold day, I saw Carter sitting at my doorstep. I sighed, knowing I wasn't going to escape him, and knowing that part of me was waiting and wanting to see him. He stood up as I walked towards him, and I wanted to leap right into his arms, but instead I stood where I was.

"You should know by now that roses don't fix everything," I said quietly. Carter stepped towards me and I already felt my stomach sink just with his body being close to me. I don't think I could ever get rid of the feeling that I got whenever Carter was near. No one else could ever replace that feeling.

"I know," Carter replied and stepped closer. He placed his hands on both sides of my waist and I sighed. "I'm sorry. Please, just please forgive me."

I looked up at him and knew, I was always going to have to forgive him for something, and unless I wanted Carter Wright out of my life, I was just going to somehow have to get used to it.



I pulled up in front of the tall, black iron gate that I used to drive through all the time but now never visited. It looked bigger, more uninviting than it had been before, like I wasn't welcome. I nervously pressed the call button on the intercom and I heard a loud beep come from the other end. I clutched my jacket closer to me and heard a loud uproar come from above me. Thunder. It was going to rain any second.

"Hello?" I heard a young voice on the other line say. It was Carter's younger brother, Wyatt. I felt my stomach churn thinking about Wyatt and hearing his voice. When Carter was first arrested, Wyatt was full of questions, but no one would answer him. He was seven at the time, and no one had the guts to tell him exactly what was going on. Carter's parents sent him to Florida to live with his aunt and uncle for a bit while everything played out. He must be just turning nine now.

"Wyatt?" I asked into the intercom. There was a pause.

"Yeah, who's this?" Wyatt asked back. A gust of wind passed by me, causing me to hug my arms closer to my body and shiver.

"It's Gwenith, can you please let me inside?" I responded.

"Gwenith?" Wyatt asked back. I didn't have time to respond back because the gate suddenly opened. I quickly hopped back into my car and drove into their large U shaped driveway and pulled up in front of their perfectly gigantic white house. It was getting dark and the lights inside illuminated through the large windows.

I walked to the large oak front door and after one knock, the door opened to reveal a young girl, probably about fifteen, with braces, freckles, and very long brown hair.

"Hi, I'm sorry, but I promised Mr. and Mrs. Wright that I wouldn't let anybody inside and I was in the bathroom when you got ahold of Wyatt on the intercom," She said softly.

"Oh hi, I'm sorry for intruding, but I really need to speak to Mr. and Mrs. Wright," I replied. "Are they home? My name is Gwenith."

"Um... well, yeah, I know who you are," The girl responded and awkwardly jiggled the doorknob with her hand. "Look, I just don't want to get fired, I'm Wyatt's babysitter and the Wrights won't be home for another hour or so."

"It's about to rain, can I just come in for a second?" I asked. The girl sighed and nodded and I stepped inside. I looked around, feeling nostalgic, I looked up to see a large chandelier hanging from the ceiling that I never noticed was there before.

"Gwenith!" I heard a yell from the left of me. I saw Wyatt run forward and he wrapped his arms around me. "Hi! Hi, how are you?!" He said excitedly. I laughed and ruffled his dark hair. He stepped back and I was taken away at the resemblance he had of Carter. Same dark hair, same blue eyes, strong chin. Wyatt wasn't the young boy I had seen the first time I delivered groceries to the house, he was growing up. And it was awful that he had to spend almost a year of growing away from his home, and away from his family.

"Hi, Wyatt!" I replied with a laugh. I turned to the babysitter, who didn't look too keen on this whole situation and smiled politely. "Listen, I just wanted to come by to pick up some stuff that I left here a while back," I lied. "I know where they are, I'm just going to go upstairs and grab them and then I'll leave a note to the Wrights and let you do your job."

"Well, okay...." The girl said hesitantly. "You obviously know where Carter's room is."

"Thank you so much," I said gratefully and then turned to Wyatt. "I'll see you in a bit. We need to have a day of catching up, okay? You can tell me all about Florida."

"Okay," Wyatt responded with a huge smile on his face. I touched his shoulder before turning and walking up the spiraling staircase that led upstairs, and that led to Carter's old room. I was originally planning on asking Carter's parents to let me "grab a few things" from Carter's room, but convincing the babysitter was a lot easier than convincing two undeniably smart, wealthy adults.

I took a deep breath and turned the knob. The door swung open and I saw Carter's room. It wasn't the way he left it. It was full of random things of his sprawled across the room. When Carter got arrested, his parents took his stuff from our apartment and brought it back to their home. All of it was piled in his room in boxes or placed in random places. I stepped inside, the room was completely and utterly quiet to the point where I felt as if my breathing was too loud. I traced my finger along his dresser and turned to open each drawer. Nothing was inside any of them. I inwardly groaned, I didn't know what I was doing here, snooping around Carter's old room, looking for something, anything that would give any sort of explanation of what happened the night Daniel Cody was murdered. But it wasn't like Carter would leave any information in the drawer's of his dresser, that would be too obvious. I looked through a few boxes that were full of books and began flipping each one of them open, because for some stupid reason I thought possibly something would fall out. But that reasoning wasn't so stupid because when I opened the sixth book, a note fell out and landed at my feet.

I quickly and excitedly grabbed it and opened it.

Jerry McDowell
2487 Filmot Glen- EMERGENCY VISITS ONLY.

I glanced at the strip of paper and read it over a few times. It wasn't written in Carter's handwriting. So obviously Jerry, or someone else wrote it. Was this where Jerry lived? And why was Carter only allowed over at Jerry's place if there was an emergency?

I contemplated possibly going to this address and finding out myself but knew how completely and utterly stupid of an idea that would be. I had only spoken to Jerry a few times, other than that, all I did was hear about him from Carter. Whenever Jerry looked at me, it was as if he disliked my very presence. He looked at me like I was a waste of Carter's time. Of course coming and paying Jerry a fine little visit wouldn't be the best idea, especially if Carter had said, truthfully or not, that Jerry was the one who killed Daniel. Who knows what Jerry would do to me if I walked to his doorstep asking for answers to questions. Who knows what he is capable of. And if Jerry was the one who burned the edges of that picture of me, then I knew for a fact that I definitely wasn't welcome at his home.

"Are you finished?" I heard a voice behind me say. I jumped and turned around to see the babysitter leaning against the doorframe. I quickly stuffed the paper into my pocket, next to the picture of me.

"Yes," I replied and nervously walked out of Carter's bedroom. The girl eyed me suspiciously, mainly because I had nothing in my hands and I had said that I was coming to retrieve my things. But I couldn't even think of covering up another lie, because all I could think of was Jerry's address, and that I knew more than anything that if anyone knew the answers to what happened that night, besides Carter, it would be him.