I get off the bus and walk a few blocks.
I
get
off
the
bus
and
walk
a
few
blocks
.
I stop when I get to a garage-like place and walk to the metal door with brown paint.
I
stop
when
I
get
to
a
garage-like
place
and
walk
to
the
metal
door
with
brown
paint
.
I turn the knob and walk in.
I
turn
the
knob
and
walk
in
.
A thousand eyes look at me as I take my place at the end of the long line.
A
thousand
eyes
look
at
me
as
I
take
my
place
at
the
end
of
the
long
line
.
When I finally get up to the window, I hand the officer my ID.
When
I
finally
get
up
to
the
window
,
I
hand
the
officer
my
ID
.
"I'm here to visit Mr C. Yes, I'm his daughter."
``
I
'm
here
to
visit
Mr
C.
Yes
,
I
'm
his
daughter
.
''
I learn that line by heart.
I
learn
that
line
by
heart
.
The officer hands me a piece of paper with my name as the visitor and my father's as the prisoner.
The
officer
hands
me
a
piece
of
paper
with
my
name
as
the
visitor
and
my
father
's
as
the
prisoner
.
It tells me which floor to go to.
It
tells
me
which
floor
to
go
to
.
As I get on the elevator, a rush of excitement runs through me.
As
I
get
on
the
elevator
,
a
rush
of
excitement
runs
through
me
.
Then I go to the eighth floor, look around and see the faces I see here every Sunday and Thursday.
Then
I
go
to
the
eighth
floor
,
look
around
and
see
the
faces
I
see
here
every
Sunday
and
Thursday
.
There he is.
There
he
is
.
I stand on tiptoe to get a better view since I can hardly see him.
I
stand
on
tiptoe
to
get
a
better
view
since
I
can
hardly
see
him
.
He doesn't look like my father.
He
does
n't
look
like
my
father
.
He's got a beard now and he looks a lot weaker.
He
's
got
a
beard
now
and
he
looks
a
lot
weaker
.
He's the dad that I see through a window.
He
's
the
dad
that
I
see
through
a
window
.
My dad who is separated from the world.
My
dad
who
is
separated
from
the
world
.
The only place he now knows is his room in the prison.
The
only
place
he
now
knows
is
his
room
in
the
prison
.
When I look deep into his eyes, I see emptiness and pain.
When
I
look
deep
into
his
eyes
,
I
see
emptiness
and
pain
.
It's difficult to hear him through the thick glass and over everyone else who is trying to talk.
It
's
difficult
to
hear
him
through
the
thick
glass
and
over
everyone
else
who
is
trying
to
talk
.
We try to carry on a normal conversation about simple things including my day and what I'm doing in school, but we mostly talk about how we can't wait until he gets out.
We
try
to
carry
on
a
normal
conversation
about
simple
things
including
my
day
and
what
I
'm
doing
in
school
,
but
we
mostly
talk
about
how
we
ca
n't
wait
until
he
gets
out
.
After an hour my time is up.
After
an
hour
my
time
is
up
.
We say our good-byes and love-yous.
We
say
our
good-byes
and
love-yous
.
I get on the bus to go home.
I
get
on
the
bus
to
go
home
.
My favorite place is where my father is--prison.
My
favorite
place
is
where
my
father
is
--
prison
.
I know, how can prison be anyone's favorite place?
I
know
,
how
can
prison
be
anyone
's
favorite
place
?
But it is because my father is there.
But
it
is
because
my
father
is
there
.
It'll no longer be my favorite place once he gets out, though--home will be.
It
'll
no
longer
be
my
favorite
place
once
he
gets
out
,
though
--
home
will
be
.
I get off the bus and walk a few blocks. I stop when I get to a garage-like place and walk to the metal door with brown paint. I turn the knob and walk in. A thousand eyes look at me as I take my place at the end of the long line. When I finally get up to the window, I hand the officer my ID. "I'm here to visit Mr C. Yes, I'm his daughter."  I learn that line by heart. The officer hands me a piece of paper with my name as the visitor and my father's as the prisoner. It tells me which floor to go to. As I get on the elevator, a rush of excitement runs through me. Then I go to the eighth floor, look around and see the faces I see here every Sunday and Thursday.  There he is. I stand on tiptoe to get a better view since I can hardly see him. He doesn't look like my father. He's got a beard now and he looks a lot weaker. He's the dad that I see through a window. My dad who is separated from the world. The only place he now knows is his room in the prison. When I look deep into his eyes, I see emptiness and pain.  It's difficult to hear him through the thick glass and over everyone else who is trying to talk. We try to carry on a normal conversation about simple things including my day and what I'm doing in school, but we mostly talk about how we can't wait until he gets out. After an hour my time is up. We say our good-byes and love-yous.  I get on the bus to go home. My favorite place is where my father is--prison. I know, how can prison be anyone's favorite place? But it is because my father is there. It'll no longer be my favorite place once he gets out, though--home will be.