It’s one o’clock in the morning, Helena. The deputy just made a cell walk, looked in on me, and kept walking. I walked to the door and read the time on the clock. My hand is sore from writing, and my heart is broken from these pages, but I owed them to you. I’m going to try to get some sleep now. Hopefully I can sleep through shower call and breakfast, to rebuild a shred of health. I might dream some of these paragraphs in color, or I might dream of you and your long dream hair, or maybe I’ll dream of Angel running through a bright field, making her way into my arms again. Or maybe I won’t dream. Maybe I’m all out of them. I hope that I am.

"The sunset is so vibrant Sarah, oh how I wish you could see it."

"Me too Angie..." Sarah waved her hands around in the air until she felt a flat surface and took a seat. She wasn't facing towards the sunset anymore. I think she knew that already so I took a seat on the opposite side.

"You know you can still see it. You were able before the accident."

"I know, but It's just not the same as it was then. All I see is.."

She caught herself before she could finish the next sentence. Knowing that what was then isn't now. She can't see at all. The crash that took her sight left her with old memories of colors that fade more and more every day. A black and white world where only the fortunate can see.

"You don't support gay rights? That's disgusting!"

"You don't believe in God? That's ridiculous!"

"You don't celebrate holidays? That's stupid!"

"You support abortion? Murderer!"

Robert Frost chose the road less traveled by, but he didn't mention if it was black or white. But whichever it was, apparently it made all the difference. And for me, my black and white world has to do with my observation that no matter what your beliefs and opinions are, someone is going to disagree with you whole-heartedly.

I hold many opinions in my fragile body, but I choose not to share a lot of them solely because I fear that doing so will offend someone else. It's a shame, that in a place where I'm free to believe what I want, I'm afraid to share those beliefs with others. A civil right of mine is hidden inside my mouth because, like a scripture says, the tongue starts great fires.

Black and white, one way or the other. No in-between, no middle ground. After all, it's impossible to be right when everyone is right.