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Mariah Frye's Autobiography (submitted 5/12/06)
Alone in his cell, I am sure he wondered, why am I in this place? What happened? I try not to think of him in a dirty prison. When we see him, it is depressing, but I have learned to get over it. When we call him he only has a few minutes to talk to us, and I want to tell him every thing.
I cry almost every night about him. My mother and I talk about it, and we both end up crying. I know that she still loves him, but it is hard for her to admit it. When he is not in prison, he is back to what he does best.
He loves the streets and I cannot blame him, but I need him too. I love him so much, but the love is returned in a materialistic way. He buys things for me and my sister to ease the pain of him not being there. It makes me sick! When I try to talk to him about it, I just cry. Moreover, it seems like he does not care.
He calls us to tell us that he is going to get out soon on good behavior, but that is another promise that will almost always will be broken. I used to wonder if he loved me, or did he just do these things just to say that he is a good father. When I hear the phrase, "the apple does not fall far from the tree," I wonder if it applies to me.
I have some of the same characteristics as he does. He has an anger problem, and so do I. We are the same person, just different genders, but still so far apart. I love him, the person responsible for my unhappiness.