Never Alone

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A letter that James Davis, father of Elliot, wrote to his family whilst in his first month of prison.

Dear Lucy, Jacob, Noah, and Elliot.

Turns out that prison has WiFi.

I'm not entirely sure why this surprised me so much, even if it isn't really proper WiFi. It's just sort of a system, I guess, that lets you e-mail your family. I guess I just assumed that getting locked up meant getting completely cut off from the world. I don't know where this idea came from, it was just something that I expected to happen. 

My biggest fear going into prison was never seeing you guys again. That was, and still is, a truly terrifying thought. You are my family and losing you guys, it's not something that I'm willing to think about. I love you all so much and the thought of going on without you is scarier than I care to admit. But then again, that fear of losing you all is what got me here in the first place. And I can't honestly say that I'm sorry about that. 

I decided to write you a letter instead of an e-mail. I guess writing a letter seems a bit more personal, that way you can actually recognize my handwriting. Although, mum might have to translate as she seems to be the only one who can actually read my handwriting. So, Lucy, I'm leaving that to you.

Prison isn't what I thought it would be like. At all. I'm not wearing an orange jumpsuit, which I am grateful for because, as handsome as you all think I am, that is not something that I could pull off as a fashion statement. I also actually have a TV in my cell, although it is small and only has limited channels, it's good to have a way to be sort of in touch with the outside world. I have all the stuff you guys sent me. The photos are up on the wall in my cell and the books you continue to send me certainly keep me entertained. And, the food here isn't so bad so I'm grateful for that.

I can pay to use the phone to call you guys, but I'm not sure I'm up for that.

I'm not going to speak about what happened because, judging by the fact that it's almost been a month and none of you have visited or tried to contact me in any way apart from the gifts, that's not something that you would like to read about. Which is fine. I get it. I screwed up. Big time. That's all on me. I wouldn't want to talk to me either.

So I'll move onto more positive things.

Like you, Lucy, and that new job promotion you got just before I...left. I couldn't be more proud of you. You always were the more ambitious one in our partnership and now that it's finally paying off, my only regret is that I can't be there to watch your success. You are the most caring, beautiful, talented and amazing woman on this earth and I couldn't be prouder to call you my wife. I got lucky with you, I did. I knew you were meant for me the moment I saw you and I am so, so grateful that you gave yourself the opportunity to realize that I was meant for you too. Before you, I didn't believe in soulmates. I still don't. I believe in people so right for each other that they make their partner a better person. You make me a better person, Lucy. I love you so goddamn much (miss out the goddamn if you read this to the kids, I know they swear a lot but let's just pretend not to know about it and keep their ears innocent). I am so, so sorry that I let you down.

And then there's my three boys. The three people who I never thought I wanted but ended up needing the moment you step foot into the world. You guys have taught me more than just how to be a dad. You've taught me how to be part of a family and I love you all so, so much for that.

Jacob, I can't believe you actually got a job. And I mean that in the best way possible. It only seems like last week that we were sending you off for your first day of school. I can still remember how you clung to me at the school gate, terrified that you wouldn't be able to defend yourself against bullies. And now look at you, all grown up and defending other people. That is the noblest profession and I sometimes have trouble believing that I brought you up. You have become something more than a man. A person. And that may not make sense to you, but I assure you that it is every parent's dream. To know that I have helped you become who you are today, in some way, that's a victory in itself.

As for you, Noah. CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY? I'm still trying to get over the fact that my son is going to one of the best universities in the country. I know I hugged you tight enough when you told me all those months ago, but I thought you might need to hear it again. You have worked so, so hard to get where you are today and that's all I could ever ask for. It doesn't matter to me what school you go to, just as long as you work hard. You do know that, right? I hope you're not going to Cambridge just because you can. I want you to go somewhere where you enjoy and excel at something you love.

And then we have Elliot. The youngest but by no means the smallest. My little man has grown to be taller than all of his brothers. Guess it was about time to get your own back, huh? 

I know you don't know what you want to do with your life yet, Elliot. You vented that out to me, remember? I do. And I'll tell you what I said then. That's okay. Really. So what if you haven't worked it out yet? You're SEVENTEEN. You have your whole life ahead of you. I know it might seem like you've been alive for a long time but trust me, you've got plenty of years ahead to work out what you want to do with your life. So, just relax. Do what you love. Keep recording your life away and let life take you wherever it goes.

By the way, Elliot, if you look in my room at the bottom of the wardrobe, there should be some more Marvel comics. I know how much you like them.

To wrap up this letter, I'm not going to say how sorry I am. Because, as sorry as I am, I don't regret that first bullet. Without that bullet one of you, the people I love and cherish the most, could be dead right now. And I love you all too much for that. So, no, I cannot say that I regret that first bullet. It was the bullets that came after that that I apologize for. I was not myself. I was so caught up in protecting you that I forgot my morals.

I'm not expecting you to forgive me. How can you when I don't forgive myself?

I love you all so much,

Dad.

The letter is sealed and unopened, along with hundreds of others on Elliot's desk. None of the Davis family can bring themselves to read them.