One in the Same

Ch. 1: Danielle

"Wiseman! A word?" Joan clipped, lifting her nose in the air. She turned on her heel and disappeared around the corner of the laundry room.

    Huffing a puff of stale piss and moldy air, I tossed the sheet I was fighting to fold in the laundry hamper. Normal day at the Women's Correctional Facility; my chore for the next four hours was laundry. If it is not a good day, some guards would come in, and mess up a fresh pile just for you to rewash them all over again. They all had sour looks on their faces 24/7, so it was hard to tell if they were in a good mood or not. After a while, you stop guessing. Same shit, different day.

But Jamie caught wind of that last week. She was doing laundry with them today, and fuck did they get her good.

You could risk the possibility of beating the living daylights out of them, stealing their keys, sprinting ass through the doors into the sunlight to start anew. Fresh life, clean slate, but on the run. But then again, it was hard telling how far you would get before you're being tackled by six of them at once. Bastards.

    "Ooooh, you did it now." Jamie snickered, tossing wet bed sheets into the dryer.

Spinning she went to the washer to grab more, and another officer pulled a sheet or two out of the washer and dropped them on the floor. A low whistle came from her chapped lips. A smile threatened to peel onto my skin, watching the mayhem unfold.

    "Damn Rodriguez. Looks like you got more sheets to wash." The woman, Officer Martinez grinned. Her eyes snapped over to me, inclining her chin. "You're being asked for. Don't want to be late, do ya?"

    Tucking the flyways behind my ear, I swallowed and exited through the open door. Making a right, I entered the interrogation room, where Joan stood on the other side. Same shit, different day.

    "You needed me?" I asked, taking my seat as usual.

"Been good today?" She teased. My lips pursed.

"Aren't I always?" I deadpanned, grinning wickedly.

"Not a week ago. Chastity still has that black eye you gave her." Joan sighed. "You couldn't be a little nicer to her?"

"Cunt stole my lizard licker. Of course, she had it coming to her." I snipped. Joan rolled her eyes.

A lizard licker is someone who will lick your lizard to satisfaction. At least that was what they called it when I got here. And there's no men that work here. When all else fails...

"Some of you women and them damn lizards." Joan sighed, marking something on a clipboard next to her.

"Well, I'm sure if there were men here, or a toy-"

"Ahh, okay, enough. Too much information, keep your lips sealed." Joan cringed.

    "Don't knock it until you try it," I mumbled. Joan physically gagged, and I snorted.

My wrists instantly rested on the coolness of the metal table before me. My eyes watched her chest rise and fall with each breath before maneuvering up to her slim face.

    I noticed she wasn't wearing any makeup today. Nothing at all. Not even the light swipe of mascara like she usually would. It's not that I cared - because I didn't - It was unusual for her routine.

    "Where's the makeup today?" My mouth and brain are working on their own time. I mentally kicked myself over and over after the last syllable left my lips.

    If there was one thing this place taught me, it was for sure to consistently say what I'm thinking, without thinking about the other person and their feelings.