Letters from the Inside, Sarah Pender, #69

Kelly,
Got your letter. I had hoped you would have a better reaction to such a nice place. I guess that it is befitting since your reading material was garbage.

That guy pulled info. out of a stolen letter and then regurgitated them as if he really knew the intimate details of my life. He took everything out of context. The guy is a weasel.
[Ed.: She is talking about Steve Miller, the author of the book about her.]

I was never bulimic. I have no idea where that "fact" came from. I have been overweight since I was 7 yrs old. I was a size 12/14 my junior year of high school because I ate salads, yogurt and walked a treadmill twice a day. The least I weighed in Rockville was 151lbs, and that was on a tuna and instant breakfast diet where I ran two miles three times a week and did aerobics and fitness class three times a week. When I was a teenager I tried throwing up to lose weight but it was a horrible experience and I never did that again. All I ever got was puke stuck in my sinuses.

My mom ought me an iCARE package of chocolate for my bday and my sister bought me a different one. I got money from my dad. This sis my third bday alone. It gets less and less exciting when I'm locked in a room all alone.

I haven't read the book but I am surprised that he supposedly knew who my first kiss was. IN fact I am pretty sure that he either made it up or was wrong because my first french kiss was with my first stepfather. I was nine. He was like 40.

I love math because there are concrete answers. There's no critic there to rip apart your form or flow or style or spelling or vocab. 2+2=4 4!=24 always and forever. I only started caring about writing when I had nothing else to do except sit in a jail cell and write letters. I only started writing literature when I became inspired by the Spirit. In my entire 17 years of education, I probably read a dozen books for school. Before I graduated high school, I probably only read 6 books on my own. I only took up reading for pleasure in the last decade.

You asked about my tattoos. I got my butterfly when I was 19 when I was with David. Butterflies are beauty, transformation, and freedom. It sure takes a whole new meaning seeing how my life turned out. The second one I got the month before I was arrested in 2000 when I was with Rick. I got a rainbow bullseye on my right butt cheek because Rick has a small obsession with smacking my butt. No matter if we were at m y parents' house, in a store or at home he didn't have impulse control.

Margaritas are the best! I don't like them frozen. They give me brainfreeze. On the rocks, light salt with a sidecar shot. Three drinks are my limit. I don't like getting drunk. I got drunk by mistake only when I got out. I quit drinking to get drunk after I was raped and mugged while drunk. I just embarrass myself otherwise., the the time I threw up all over, behind and next to the toilet at this guy I was dating's place. I puked on myself, just everywhere. I kept saying no when he'd pour me more alcohol and he kept pushing me, "Just one more." That what he got for not taking no for an answer.

I haven't talked to Tom since Dec. 19 2008. I know he didn't go to jail, at least, I can speculate. But I only have circumstantial evidence so I shouldn't make accusations without factual basis. I do still have the ring he bought me. He was a generous man, and I often declined his offer for gifts or chose modestly when I could have luxury. I never asked for more than I needed, but I've always been that way. I don't' think Tom was in love with me. I think the love we had for one another was rooted in being able to meet each other's needs. He was my security blanket and I loved him for that. I was his young trophy and pet, and he loved me for that. I worried about him, that's why I lied to the police when I was arrested and said that Tom did know know who I was, that I liked to him when we met. it was Tom who admitted that I had been honest with him from Day One.


The letters I wrote were never used against me in that I never wrong anything incriminating myself, although some of them incriminated Rick. Basically the prosecution used the fact that I wrote the letters as "proof" that I had intimate contact with Rick and Floyd. Then Rick had a letter forged in my print, which they used against me, and Floyd claimed that I confessed to him and they use the letter to "prove" we had a conversation, but he made it all up from the info. his cousin gleaned from Rick. And when Floyd testified at my trial He EXONERATED me, saying that I had confessed to him that Rick shot Drew and Trish during an argument. He said that when I bought the gun, there was no plan to kill them; it's just that the argument escalated and Rick shot them. The prosecutor asked again if I had planned the murders and Floyd said no, there was no plan to outright kill them, it just got to that point during an argument. The prosecutor stopped Floyd, handed him a sheet of paper and told him to quietly read it and then said, "Yes or no, did Sarah plan the murders?" Floyd said, "Yes."

Maybe the letters were my "undoing" but only because they were manipulated to "prove" something that was no true. In fact, if they actually READ the letters objectively, they'd see that my words contradict their theories. That's why they were kept bundled up in an evidence room, because they would show the jury that I was not the person they made me out to be.

I understood your issue about privacy. Your letters are disposed of.

That David Sedaris essay was hilarious!

Lonely Planet. Easy Tiger.

I like the boulders on the pillows. It makes them look cuddly.

"It's horrible out there; people are crying."

Isn't nature fascinating? The little frog was sunbathing with you. Hanging with KK in the pool. I bet you are not a big camper, huh? When I was little, 7 or 8, my dad sent us to camp where we lived in a little wooden cabin with insects here and there, had campfires at night, hiked and canoed in the day. There were these tiny frogs everywhere and we caught a dozen of them and put them in a suitcase and under the sheets of this really prissy girl no one liked. It wasn't my idea, but I helped catch the little guys. I was worried they'd suffocate under there.

I want you to have a clairvoyant dream about me. I need some good news in my life. Two days ago I broke down crying to my father asking "Why am I even here? What purpose does all of this injustice and suffering serve? What did I do to get THIS life?" I was fantasizing about euthanasia. I'm not that lucky. The doctors says I'm very healthy.

Good news: Out of the 50 plants I cooked to death on accident, three of them have grown 3" tall, two are 1" tall and five have sprouted a radicle. So I am lucky to have 20% of my seedlings survive. I built all of my other 5 flowers little tents to keep them shaded for the last two days because the heat index was 106. The tents are made from a mixture of paper towels, plant pots, rocks, fabric, cardboard, and empty milk cartons. I love my little guys.

In other news it looks like the documentary will be filming within the next month. I am praying Rick will go no national TV and tell the truth. He's done it once before to AMW, who didn't air it, and once to a court judge and twice to my family and friends. It takes a big person to admit that you set someone up for murder. I don't understand people. I just don't.

Hope to hear from you soon.

--Sarah