Chapter 1
Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph.
Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph.
Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph.
Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph.
Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph.
Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph.
Please wake up and love me back.
Please.
Emily Hasting stops writing and smiles her small yet serene smile. This is her one-hundredth letter to her lover. Her furry, tall, dark, movie star handsome, badass, unconscious but no-longer-secret lover. Her peacefully sleeping prince in shining armor. Her Joseph. She lets out a small sigh and seals the letter. Her hair has been cut shorter. Her handwriting is neat and tidy, as usual. She has gotten used to her new life here. The food is not great but acceptable. Her room is small and narrow but not extremely uncomfortable. Her neighbors are loud and rude and mostly uneducated. But that's not a big problem for Emily Hasting. She always, always knows how to tolerate the less...fortunate people. It's her duty as a civilized good Catholic woman to be thoughtful, kind, truthful and considerate. She stands up from her bed, goes down on her knees and starts praying. For her precious Joseph, of course. He is the only meaning of her life. He is the only joy of her world. He is the only center of her universe. He is the anchor of her existence. He is her Joseph. Her one and only Joseph. He is the man in her dream. He is the man of her destiny. He is her fate. He is her hope. Without him, she is nothing. Without him, life is not worth living. Without him, the galaxy is but a silent black hole.
Emily's shoulders start to shake as hot burning tears fall down her face. Her whole body trembles with ragged sobs. Her crying echoes through the corridors. All the other inmates wince and cringe. They try their best to keep away from her. They can't decide if she's really that crazy or dangerous. She's always polite and quiet. She's always pleasant and nice. She's just like the girl next door. She's just like the friendly good-mannered childhood friend they all have back home. But there's something in her misty gray eyes that scares them stiff. There's something about that ordinary average smiling face that sends chills up and down their spines. This woman has a beautiful voice. This woman knows how to make perfect cupcakes. This woman knows how to make perfect iced tea. This woman knows how to use a Glock. This woman knows how to slash and thrust a professional hunting knife. This woman knows how to make perfect exquisite time bombs. This woman is sentenced for life without parole. This woman moans and groans and laughs and screams in her sleep every single night. This woman frightens them to death. Even though she didn't actually kill anyone. Even though she went to her church choir practice as if nothing had happened and sang like an angel after setting off the bombs...
Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph.
Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph.
Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph.
Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph.
Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph.
Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph.
Please wake up and love me back.
Please.
Joe Morelli looks around, trying to find where the sweet enchanting voice is coming from. He has been trapped in the dark dense woods for ages. He's tired and hungry. He's lost and afraid. Who is keeping on calling his name? It's not Terry. It's not Linda. It's not Carol. It's not Rita. It's not Amy. It's not Betty. It's not Mary. It's not Janice. It's not Janine. It's not Annie. It's not Lucy. It's not his mother. It's not His grandmother. It's not Steph...Stephanie. Who is the owner of this warm beautiful voice? He has to find her. He has to go to her. He has to look into her eyes. He has to kiss her lips. He has to wrap her in his arms. He has to feel her. He has to accept her. He has to...he has to...he has to love her. Love her. LOVE her!
The nurse jumps and squeals as the unconscious patient suddenly sits up in his bed and opens his eyes. His lips slowly part. He croaks out an almost silent word. The nurse puts a hand over her still wildly thumping heart and presses the calling button.
Joe Morelli has finally woken up from his coma.
Joe Morelli looks around, trying to find where the sweet enchanting voice is coming from. He has been trapped in the dark dense woods for ages. He's tired and hungry. He's lost and afraid. Who is keeping on calling his name? It's not Terry. It's not Linda. It's not Carol. It's not Rita. It's not Amy. It's not Betty. It's not Mary. It's not Janice. It's not Janine. It's not Annie. It's not Lucy. It's not his mother. It's not His grandmother. It's not Steph...Stephanie. Who is the owner of this warm beautiful voice? He has to find her. He has to go to her. He has to look into her eyes. He has to kiss her lips. He has to wrap her in his arms. He has to feel her. He has to accept her. He has to...he has to...he has to love her. Love her. LOVE her!
The nurse jumps and squeals as the unconscious patient suddenly sits up in his bed and opens his eyes. His lips slowly part. He croaks out an almost silent word. The nurse puts a hand over her still wildly thumping heart and presses the calling button.
Joe Morelli has finally woken up from his coma.
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