The Moth and the Flame

TMATF|4

BEDFORD HILLS CORRECTIONAL FACILITY

West Chester County, New-York

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"Alright. Back to the jungle you go. Come on, come on."

Slowly rising up, Irie eyed the sneaky prison officer, as he stepped aside to allow her to walk out.

Her back hurted and she was actually falling asleep before hearing the usual loud bangs against the door. She thought that maybe she was dreaming, but quickly realized she wasn't, once seeing his face.

She was both disgusted and confused.

She had no idea what time it was, but it was dark.

"Pillows, sheets...got everything?" He questioned, as Irie nodded.

"Alright, let's go."

Cuffing her, he then escorted her down the hall and eventually back to her cell, where she was greeted by her celly, Jah.

"Alright big girl. Welcome home."

Quickly opening the cell, Irie walked in before being uncuffed. The cell door slamming then sounded next, as he eyed her full figured body.

"Sleep tight," he waved creepily before disappearing down the hall.

Irie then turned, taking in Jah, who slept on the top bunk. She was clearly still awake, one leg crossed over the other, while her foot moved repeatedly back and forth.

"How you holding?" She questioned, once Irie sat down on her bed.

There wasn't much of a difference from the hole's bed, but her usual one had a teeny bit more fluff.

"Aight," Irie then laid down and closed her eyes.

She was surprised at just how peaceful it appeared on her floor.

"You missed like two fights. Michelle and Lea are gone. Desiree tried to hang herself again and Kennedy got cut too. Fucked up our whole Thursday," Jah said in disappointment.

"It's quiet. I don't care," was Irie's reply, as she folded both hands across her stomach.

A few moments later, the sound of Jah jumping off her bunk made Irie's eyes shoot open.

She then rose up.

"Hey."

Irie looked at the sneaky grin that coated Jah's yellow face before veering her eyes down towards her right leg, which she slowly rocked back and forth. Immediately, she took in the outline of a phone.

"Mr. Johnson," Jah said lowly.

Irie simply smiled while shaking her head.

Jah was a thick, pretty, freckled face black woman, currently locked up on a gun and robbery charge. She was Irie's seventh celly and had been for the past two years. She had various 'relationships' with a few guards, which in turn granted her special privileges provided by them.