A really, really long time ago my parents made a ridiculously stupid decision that basically chose the path for all their children. The choice between good and evil. They decided to be work camp foremen. Dad had an over the top love of justice and Mom had a love for control. They mutually decided that the best job that would complement both of these loves was a job as a foremen. They were the only ones jumping for the job so they got it no problem.

For their eagerness to be in law management (that you wouldn’t believe how many prisoners there are out there these days) they received a plot of land in southern Colorado that had a house ready built and 4.74 miles of land. Do you know how much land that is? 25,000 feet of land or 250 blue whales, or 7620 meters. Basically its huge, the fastest man on earth would take at least 16 minutes to just run around it. Its fair to say that I don’t know all the land I Iive on but I do know quite a bit of it.

Now, I know I made a bit of an over statement when I said that my parents set my family up to choose good or evil but it’s true. I have 7 siblings and I’m of course the youngest of the bunch and the ripe and tender age of 19. My oldest sibling is 34 named Meg Hero. She starts a trend in my family that many shudder at the thought of, especially my parents. She fell in love with one of the convicts in the camp, fleeing out her bedroom window and escaping the camp to lead a life of crime that bears a very familiar pattern to that of Bonnie and Clyde. She still sends us postcards but she has the mail guy hold them for a month before their sent to us so no one can track her. After Meg is Anne Margret, she was the first success of our parents. She too married a convict but the guy she married was in our camp for stealing a loaf of bread and getting caught. He was hardly a hardened criminal. They got married just after he got out, reformed and became (ironicly I might add) a bank teller. How they let him become a bank teller with a criminal record is beyond me, my guess is that Anne had something to do with it.

                The cycle continues on and on with all my siblings falling in love with an inmate and marrying them. Some are petty thieves, others hardened criminals, and rarer still some actually reform a hardened criminal. On the other side of things sometimes my sisters are pure evil to the core and turn a sweet guy into a murderer. So pay attention, I’m only going over this once.

                My sister Lucie Marian transformed a murderer into a florist. Ophelia Emma married herself a hardened criminal and she too became a criminal, there is an article about her in the paper right now saying she was caught but her husband wasn’t. She has 30 years in prison ahead of her with no chance for parole. Pippi Juliette turned a Catholic Missionary to the camp into a famous head slasher. We all knew she would be a psychopath from the age of 2 when she lit her bead on fire saying the colors were so pretty. Jane Cosette is probably the most normal marrying a car thief. She ministered to him though the talk hours and once he got out two years later they were married. He now works at our family church and she is a stay at home mom with two kids. Helena rose is currently married… well kind of, more like eloped with a criminal who runs a famous gang outside of Denver. We haven’t heard from her in a few months so were assuming she turned bad.

I’m obviously the youngest and am about the age most of my sisters got married but I don’t think I’ll end up being married like my sisters. I would be much happier a social activist living with the hippies but Mom and Dad insist that I need to help them on the farm so that it stays in the family. I have absolutely no interest what so ever with criminals though.  They’re here for a reason and I would prefer not to associate with them.

Man, okay I forgot the reson I did first and middle name of all my sisters, their after famous book characters. I won’t give reasons or anything, just their names and the book there from okay? Meg (Little Women) Hero (Much Ado About Nothing), Anne (Persuasion) Margret (Gone With the Wind), Lucie (Tale of Two Cities) Marian (The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood), Ophelia (Hamlet) Emma (Emma), Pippi (Pippi Longstocking) Juliette (Romeo and Juliette), Jane (Pride and Prejudice ) Cosette (Les Miserables), Helena (Mid Summer Nights Dream) Rose (Little House on the Prairie), and then theres me, I’m Sybil Elizabeth named from The Picture of Dorian Grey and Elizabeth is from Pride and Prejudice.

Now let’s get this straight, I go by Lizzie, not Sybil. My nickname is not Liz or Libby, its Lizzie. Okay? Got it, now that the formalities are though we can move on. This is the first entry of the journal Cherry and I share. The family has a lack of money these days so we share. You’ll hear from me some times and Cherry other times. We will abstain from foolish giggles and girlish talk because that is only for idiotic middle schoolers who have nothing better to do with themselves. In my opinion if they have enough time to be worrying over the boy in the seat next to them they are spending far too much time daydreaming and should work on school more. I want to end up with a college education, not wprking at a meat shop of sorts. That is the standard of this journal. Cherry be sure to read over the rules, this is one thing I will not compromise on. Deal?

-Lizzie

***

Yeah, yeah, I read it. You totally neglected to introduce me though. I’m Cherry but my real name is Albany Sue Munroe, though to be technical its Tenant now because I was “adopted’ into the family. Its more like pulled in against my will. Here’s what happened. I grew up in south Albany, New York back when it was real bad, crime everywhere. Mom took me from Chicago at the age of four to Albany in hopes of finding a better job, and she did but she liked our poor neighbors better than moving so from the moment we moved to Albany we lived on the poor side of town. Its more like the gangster side of town so I learned to survive. Walking from the not so ghetto to the ghetto area was a 2 mile trek because my school was in the REALLY ghetto area. I learned when to run and who to befriend in order to survive the streets. That came in the form of Russell D. He was one of the lead members of a gang that was so strong that it was the only one that didn’t get in gun fights regularly. He became my bodyguard and best friend. Mom never knew about this though because if she would have I’m pretty sure she would have flipped. She’s was pretty conservative and VERY over protective. Eight years after we moved to Albany she hit it big and started working for an oil man off New York City. It’s a bit of a trip from Albany so Mom decided we would both move. I didn’t want to and said I had to stay. She looked dubious but then the man next door that Mom liked so much said I could stay with him. Mom was ecstatic because then that mean she had a reason to meet out old neighbors commonly and she wouldn’t have to worry about me so much. What she didn’t know was that our neighbor was Russel D.’s Dad, the originator of the gang. So I spent my teen years as a ‘thug’ or whatever you wanna call it. I learned when you are afraid, break the guy’s bones before he breaks yours. It was a handy tool to know how to protect yourself when your only 4’9. How I ended up that short is a mystery to me, my only guess is that my dad was a Mexican or something, short you know. I learned how to threaten, heckle, and protect myself all in interest of being alive. I guess you could say that I didn’t choose the thug life, the thug life chose me. At the age of sixteen, I broke into a house and got caught stealing a TV (I really wanted one to watch the new channels and whatever). The family came home and I was quickly caught and arrested. (Really bad choosing on my part because the dad of the family was a copper.) I was taken to the court but since I was still a minor I had a choice between a Labor camp or jail. In hindsight I should have chosen jail. I arrived at the camp in Colorado because it was away from NY and it was reportedly the best camp for reforming hardened criminals. I’m guessing it’s because of how many daughters have married the inmates. I was here and Lizzie spotted me and befriended me. It wasn’t too bad because none of the other girls liked me much anyways (Lizzie Note: That is because you kept beating them up because you suspected they would turn on you or steal your food.)So I spent my days inside talking to lizzie and cooking food instead of digging whatever it is that they force you to do out here. I learned how to peal a mean potato by the end of a few months. After a while she got to know my story and I was basically adopted despite the fact I had a mother. According to what the Mrs. Says Mother disowned me after I went to jail making me a legal orphan like those adopted kids that have parents but their just given up. That’s me except I actually knew mine. I’m guessing they thought they could reform me or whatever but its no secret the moment I turn eighteen I’m going to be out of here and find my way back to Albany weather its by hitch hiking or walking or bus. I will get back. So this journal is practically useless because my birthday is in two weeks and I’ll be out of here the moment the clock strikes midnight. Kind of like those fairytales that Jane likes so much.

Cherry

Ps Probably should tell you about why my name is Cherry, it’s because I have red hair. The End, end of story. Mom likes to say it’s because she would say “Aren’t you such a cheerful baby?” and I would say something like Cherry in response. Let me tell you there is no way in hell (Remember you are not allowed to curse in here, mom sometimes read this, it’s a qualifier of your time here, REMEMBER.) that I would ever be caught saying something so cute.

Posted comment on Lizzie’s comment. I say what I want           .

I used white out. Fine, say what you want, I WILL be using whiteout though.

Prude.

At least I have grammar, there should be a warrant out for your arrest by the grammar poliece. That was a serial killing spree of paragraphs.

Idiot.

Today we went out to watch the new truck load of convicts come in, there were so many this time. I think there was some kind of rally around the white house that resulted in people being sent to various prisons or something. Mom says that there was a protest against the Nixon administration and that’s why the camp is going into overflow. I kind of feel sorry for the convicts because we only have so many bunk houses, maybe the next project will be for them to work on building a bunk house. That won’t last very long though, maybe a week or so with as many prisoners as we have.

Now Cherry is going to have to confirm or deny this but I think she has take a liking to one of the prisoners. I’m not sure though. She was watching them get off the bus and then she turned towards me away from the bus and she was blushing bright pink. I guess the family curse applies to adopted family members too. I’m not sure which one because they came off in such as rush as usual. I’m not quite sure why they want to get off that bus so fast because they will be here for a while. Maybe they start riots on the bus or the bus driver has some kind of problem. What little I’ve talked to him he seems like a decent kind of guy. Couple of kids and a wife. He seems kind of sad. Maybe he plays terribly depressing music on the bus or something that nobody except him likes. Like maybe Carole King or the Song “Rainy Days and Mondays’. She writes some pretty depressing songs. I think I’d go insane if that was all we listened to Carole King and “Rainy Days and Mondays” for a couple hours, or at the very least depressed.

To be honest I think that this batch was calmer than usual, maybe that’s because they are not real convicts, their just prisoners of war (that’s what I like to call it, products of all this randomly changing stuff. I mean who wouldn’t want to riot after you find out your president has been betraying your country behind your back.) Here I’m sure Cherry would put in some snark filled comment about how ‘in the ghetto…’ Honestly she talks about Albany like its Russia or something. Maybe it should be my duty to inform the reader of what’s going on in politics. Oh      no.

Eietherways, just in case you are curious about how this journal is formatted, Cherry and I write whenever we feel like it. I’ll probably be more regular because if you don’t have structure, we have a problem, or at least I have a problem. Cherry writes when she feels like it so when things get hard we will hear from her. Until next time.

Lizzie.

Okay, I’m gunna set some things strait here, fist off I write regularly too, I just don’t feel the need to have a schedule. Secondly I will tell you what actually happened with the truck. Yes, there was a boy who caught my attention but as soon as he looked at me he glared. The person behind him smiled and waved which made me blush. Simple as that.

Cherry.

Today I went out to study the two targets, since I do not know what they look like I asked Cherry what they looked like. So that was what you were doing. >: ( She said that she rather liked guys with strait hair and were tall, at least taller than her (which isn’t very hard) Hey! She also said she liked guys who were baby faced and pretty, she isn’t fond of boys with hairy faces, I have to say I can’t blame her. The hippie trend that is going around style wise at school is gross, most of them smell. So I looked for clean shaven goys among the ranks that are taller than five feet. That narrowed down the search to about 500 of the thousand man, which makes me think how many guys have beards. Then I looked for guys with strait hair only narrowing down the number to about 450 men. Ultimately we can call this search a failure.

-Lizzie

You could just ask me.

I was pretty sure that you would never tell me so I went and looked myself.

He has brown strait hair hes about 6 foot but I’m not sure because it was from a distance.

Since Cherry will probably be too embarrassed to write down what happened I’ll write down what happened because we all know that she is much too shy to talk about her own feelings. Which is odd given that she is a girl from the Ghetto, you would think she would be willing to talk about a trivial thing like feelings. Not trivial.

So we wnt down to the convict office to see Tony the records keeper. We had a fun chat and then I explained to him that we were looking for a specific guy saying that we needed to have a nice chat with him because he stole cherry lunch. I would say something corny like he stole her heart but that won’t work with good old strait forward Tony. So we asked for guys with strait black hair under the age of thirty that were new imports ect. Ect. We managed to track down the guy fairly fast given the criminal mug shots were on each of the files. I could tell that good old Tony was suspicious of our intentions from the moment that pale skinned Cherry turned bright pink.

So I asked him just for the name and that we would tell it to the cops that work the premises and they could deal with it, not us. That seemed to please him. What he didn’t know (at least I don’t think he knew this) that I was looking over his shoulder for the cell block number so that we could go meet the guy during lunch break. We are allowed to talk to the convicts at lunch break.

Just a little side note, we are only allowed outside during lunch due to my sisters track record for finding a guy who is a criminal. There is a reason that we have an electric fence around the house and bullet proof windows with a little dash of automatic locks on all the doors and windows. Mom and Dad really don’t want me marry a convict. You can see how well that worked given that I’m a ‘convict’ and I’m adopted by them.

So we went to see the guy, which narrowed the search down to about 20 guys all in the same bunk house. This house is the one that is working on building walls for the penitentiary down the street, they are the ones that aren’t really that bad, which in hindsight was probably a good thing given its cherry we are talking about, you know, the convict who grew up in the Ghetto. So I need to watch her, she might take off at any point in time you know. No I won’t, and you know that.

So we went and as it turns out they guy wasn’t there (big surprise) so we asked some of the guys as to where the guy was. They said it would be a good idea to leave him alone because he gets a little stressed when people talk to him on his free period. So we proceeded to ask the other inmates about him. They said that he is really quiet and had a bit of a temper that flared whenever something that wasn’t quite to his liking happened. Of course Cherry being Cherry decided that it would be a good idea to ask the inmates about their friend and what set him off so she could avoid that. The little suck up.  Those are big fat lies Sybil! I asked about him and it transferred to that because the other guys thought he had anger problems. He probably doesn’t by the way. It just ended up there, it wasn’t my fault! Stop pinning things on me that never happened, I’m not as bad as you think! Please can’t you just trust me! I may have a hard time with some normal stuff, and social situations, and I may be under parole and stuff but I’m not as bad as you make me out to be in here! Maybe if you gave me a chance to prove myself you might notice that I’m not that bad. Why won’t anyone give me a chance? Well that was awkward… We found out that the guy was really reclusive, we also found out that the other guys had some interesting things to say about his brother Orson… I’m not quite sure what to make of the guy. Either way the lunch bell rang and Orson walked in (we only knew that because the guys in the rooms suddenly looked really busy getting ready for the day) he had a curly mess of hair is a rough looking crew cut, or was it a flat top…  I think it was a mixture, it was shaved on the sides and curly on the top. That looked like a bird could have fashioned his hair but it was a nice shade of auburn… I think. He gave us a fifty watt smile and came straight towards us. He then introduced himself as Orson McCallister and that he was a new convict. He then went into various details about some random stuff such as the fact he was twenty and that he had a little brother but he wasn’t really little because he was his twin and how his little brother was such a loner and really needed to be fixed (he then cracked a joke about just like a dog or something…) and that he was so pleased to meet us, why were we on the guys side of the farm and what our names were and how many days we had been here and OH SHINY! The run on sentence was necessary to describe this guy because he wouldn’t stop talking. He was just beaming the whole time like he was softening us up for an operation that would really hurt or possibly kill us. It was bizarre.

So after his deafening talking we went to the house and had some lunch. We never saw the guy just heard about him. He seems no good.

-Lizzie

***

So, I think I should put some things strait. Orson wasn’t as bad as Lizzie made him out to be, I guess you could call him a Casanova or something. He smiled very politely all the time and would talk a lot. He seemed very interested in Lizzie, maybe he is attracted to her stick in the mud nature. Somebody needs to be. Hey now. So we talked until the guard came out and told us to go into the house so that we wouldn’t get in trouble or anything. We came home and ate lunch. To be honest all this talk about Jude (that’s his name, something that Lizzie neglected to talk about in her impressive narrative) he seems all the more interesting. I look forward to meeting him. You would wouldn’t you.

Girls, I would like to remind you that messing with the boys is a bad idea, they are criminals after all even if their in the D district of the housing. They are still criminals. Can you also please go out and get some milk? If you want an adventure going in to town should be more than enough. Thanks!

-Mom

***

To be honest, I didn’t leave… I have a really terrible reason too. I think I feel in love with Jude. I went to his cell block early this morning so that I could at least get a chance to talk to him before I go. So I went to his room and ironically he wasn’t there. It’s like he ran away or something. So I went and looked for him and found him sitting under one of the only trees on the property, a willow tree that’s right down by the river. I know it wasn’t native, I figure one of the families in the past probably planted it. Actually they planted that tree when I was born because they knew I would be the last kid born… So he was sitting there writing on a notebook, it was one of those little composition books that the prison lets you have as a record of all the events (not that there are very many) when I had it I usually used it to draw on and think in.

I went up to him and he kind of gave me this dead fish face, he looked like he would kill me if I talked to him, and that’s not very hard at my height and if his brother is the same height (which Im assuming he is because their identical… well relatively identical considering.) So I did the courageous thing and instead of running away like everything in my head was saying to do, I sat on the other side of the willow tree and looked through the branches at the sunrise. It was kind of a nice peach- ish color. I sat and kind of snuck looks at him now and again. He would look at me for a quick second to see what I was doing, he seemed a little suspicious of me and rightfully so I suppose, I just came and sat down behind him. For all he knows I could have clubbed him or ratted him out to the foremen. I guess that would make anyone paranoid. But that’s when it hit me, that he was proably nervous because he didn’t know who I was, he must be one of the kids from the Ghetto! Just like that I fell in love with him. He would just keep writing whatever he was writing and I would keep pretending that I was looking at the sunrise. I really do love the sunrise. I guess it must have just been me but I felt like I was in an old movie, like the ones that are from the 30’s or maybe a silent film. You can feel the romance. I could feel the romance. Ew.

I look forward to getting to see him tomorrow… which requires me to stay here. I can’t leave, hes still here and I want to get to know hom. Jude. My hands shake a little when I write his name. He is beautiful.

So its quite refreshing to not see Lizzies neat creepy hand writing in here. Its refreshing. She’ll never find it. Bit harsh… So I went down to the same willow tree today and he wasn’t there. I looked around for a bit and found that he had been higher up in the tree asleep. I guess he must have been hiding from the mangers and cops… or maybe me… I still don’t know.

When I saw him up there I probably smiled a bit and decided to just resume my place from yesterday. I already like this routine. I feel like we are playing a lovers game or something of the like. I cannot risk Lizzie finding out about where I hid this journal, so I’ll write when something major happens.

Today I talked to Him. He never said a word, I just talked about who I was and that I thought he was quite the gentleman for not talking and being so quiet. I also apologized for interrupting his space but I had such a wonderful time. I left around the time I usually do which is when the work whistle sounds.

I went back into the house and listened to the radio until I got the best songs on the radio to listen to whenever I feel like seeing Jude but can’t. For the future, so I can freeze this moment in time, I will write down my songs on the Record.

1. “Your Song” by Elton John
2. “Have you Ever Seen the Rain” by Creedence Clear Water Revival
3. “Listen to the Music” by The Doobies
4. “Saturday in the Park” by Chicago
5. “Heart of Gold” by Neil Young

I also found a song by a freak chance that that I can’t even explain… I didn’t even rip it off the air, I think I might go buy the record. The song is called “Hey Jude” by the Beatles. Apparently it came out a few years ago but I had never heard it, probably because for a while I didn’t have any access to music or even a radio because I was detained. At this point in time I’m starting to be thankful Lizzie’s family took me in… it’s still out in the middle of nowhere, but I guess it’s better than the Ghetto.  I look forward to writing about my future adventures.

-Cherry

Its been a few weeks hasn’t it? I am back now and can see that when I wasn’t able to find the journal Cherry went off jabbering nonsense about Jude. She is unbelievable really. Far too boy crazy. Okay so here is what happened that I didn’t get to fill you in about (sorry, this might be a little long because I have a lost to write down.) So we went back down to the room to see if we could find the elusive Jude (as you probably know from the previous journal entries Cherry got to be around him. I’m sure the poor guy never talked, she’s quite the talker.) We went down and only got Orson who unfortunately is even more of a talker than Cherry, we have quite a lot of talkative people around these parts, I guess people get bored. He told us that they were very different and that Jude is more subdued and gentlemanly than he was. Cherry of course said there was no way that was possible (I didn’t know at the time about her early morning meeting at the time) and they continued to talk about likes and dislikes. I feel like Cherry should be with a guy like Orson, not Jude. Chatter boxes deserve each other. We went about the rest of the week relatively normally and we worked out in the fields out with the girl prisoners like normal.

I talked to Orson more and more by myself as time has gone on, I get a sense that he is not all smiles and giggles like I first thought. He seems to be a little darker for some reason. I don’t know, it’s not really any one thing that makes me think that, it’s just that occasionally hell make a pretty dark joke about death or something. For example this is a joke he told me “Woman delivers baby. Doctor takes the baby, and throws it, smashing around the hospital room, drop-kicking it, etc. Mother starts freaking out, being held back by nurses, begging "WHYYYY!!??". Doctor holds baby upside down by the ankle and says "I'm just kidding with you, it was born dead". He thought it was hilarious but it was approximately the worst joke I’ve ever head. I know grave yard humor and such but that’s just cruel.

Part of me kind of wants to train it out of him.

I suppose that could never happen right? Well it looks like I will be spending a lot of time with both of the twins if Cherry gets her way, maybe I can reach him or something. Cherry, I know you’ll e reading this, and I want you to know as of now, you are free to write what you feel. I know it makes me squeamish but if it helps you, go for it, I just really want you to be good and upright in your actions. So feel free to spill out your mushy and totally girly feelings.

Love, Lizzie