Dear Mom,
I know you’re upset I’m here and not out in the world making something of myself. I know I made mistakes and you might not even open this letter once you see it’s from me, but I’m writing you anyway.
I’m not writing you asking you for money or sympathy or anything like that. I’m writing you to tell you what a good person I’ve become. How I’ve changed.
Remember when I was a kid and always wanted to go to summer camp? How I begged you to get me bunk beds, even though it was just you and me. Well, now I have bunk beds and a whole bunch of roommates. It’s just like summer camp most days. Except we’re all locked inside and haven’t seen true daylight in weeks.
Some guys here even years.
But don’t worry about me. Three months in here will be nothing. I have a bunk bed with my bunk mate, I have a warm shower whenever I want it. Everyone in the dorm here is nice enough. We all take care of each other in here.
The food could use some work and the hours, but I’m happy here. I’m happy for now.
Hopefully when I get out, I can prove to you that I’ve changed. Maybe I can get a job and you and I can really go camping, like I always wanted when I was a kid.
Greetings from “Summer Camp”,
Bobby Joe
Inmate #987341