"we already fucked, might as well get attached.", i shrugged pacing the workshop. ive been here not even a month yet, and I already found someone I care about- and no, not just because we fucked.
Thank you @spacebuns- for the cover, love!!!!
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My trial was over. Police were escorting me to their car as soon as the judge wailed down onto that wooden block, he hit it so hard and full of anger I thought the entire desk might have split into two.
I kept my mouth shut as a man put his hand on my shoulder and shoved me into the backseat after I was cuffed tightly behind my back.
They don't need to be so violent with me, I've been cooperating since the beginning.
The drive was, as you could've guessed, silent. I had tears in my eyes and each centimeter we drove led me to my 6 year sentence and scarred life.
I felt a stray tear escape down my cheek and I quickly wiped it off. Be cool, Mari, everything's going to be alright. You'll be fine, maybe it isn't that bad.
Maybe it isn't that bad? Fuck, throw me in a cage at the nearest zoo, that would be better then prison. Actually, I hope I'm exaggerating. All those cop shows and cartoons make it seem so extreme, it can't be that bad- we do still have our rights.
A while later we got to a brick building labeled Litchfield and I knew I was in for deep shit. The police walked around the car and practically dragged me out of it.
"Don't push me, I'm walking.", I said then realized who I was talking to and didn't want a 'back talk' report or whatever the fuck I could get- I honestly don't know. "Please, sir. I'm behaving there's no need."
He pushed me in the door, ignoring what I just said, then let me go- well he released his grip on me, I was still handcuffed.
Eventually though, a women came out through a metal inspector and looked surprised to see me at first. "She's here today? Caputo said she'd be here tomorrow?", the woman said and set down her Starbucks coffee next to a black basket.
God how I would miss that, not Starbucks in particularly but fast food and anything of that sort. I doubt they have a 'order anything you want here' section in the prison, so I'd be saying goodbye to that for a good long while.
"Well, she's here today.", the man replied. "Are you going to take her back to change or am I? Quite frankly, I have other things to do and would rather not sit through that.", he finished with a groan.
The woman walked over and started unlocking my cuffs after snatching the keys from the male polices' pocket. "I'll do it myself.", she said then handed his keys back and he started towards the exit.
"Since it's 3-in-the-fucking-morning, I'll be signing you in. Go to that counter.", she said trying to sound reasonable but, still coming off like she wishes I was dead. "Let me get your fingerprints, full name, age, why you're here, and everything else on this paper.", she said pushing a clipboard and pencil to me.
I waved it at my hip for a moment, taking in the surrealist of this situation. I was going to jail, holy fuck. I made my way to a seat and crossed my legs before I began to write down my answers and everything she wanted.
I took my time with everything as well, seeing as this would be my last time technically still 'free' and roaming about. I assumed prison was one big room with cells and stone floors growing mold and full of bugs, a few tables, and guards galore.
"Let's go, Alaniz! You writing a fucking autobiography over there or something?!", she asked and I just sighed. I wish. I've aspired to be a writer, it's my biggest dream- next to pursuing a singing career of course- but, I done fucked up.
I clutched the clipboard in my sweaty palms and held them pen between my index and middle finger as I walked towards the desk. I slowly set the things on the counter and slid it through the bottom on the glass.
The woman, who's tag read Willow, skimmed over what I just wrote down then headed out of that room and into another. "Come here.", she said and I listened.
I walked in and she shut the door behind me. "Strip.", she said and I immediately felt my stomach turn.
"Miss...", I tried to argue. "I can't.", I stuttered out. "It's been something I've had since I was a kid. I-I can't-"
She cut me off and started talking, "I don't care, strip now.", she repeated and I had no choice, I removed my converse first, setting them neatly aside- not that it would matter.
I took off my skinny jeans and set them on top of the shoes, then my striped t-shirt and army green colored bomber jacket on top of that. She kept looking at me, like she was still waiting, and I knew what she wanted me to do.
I removed my bra first, feeling more comfortable with that, then turned and took off my panties afterwards. "Squat and cough, my dear.", she said being sarcastic at the 'my dear' part.
"What?", I asked, almost choking.
"Cavity check, you'd be surprised how many people have done this in the past. Now, let's go I want to get to sleep.", she said and waved her stupid fucking police baton around like she would hit me if I didn't.
After that was done, and I was in full on tears, she handed me a white bra with some white panties and the thing I was dreading. The police uniform.
It was bright orange, and yeah it was as hideous as people made it look on television. I put the undergarments on the second she gave them to me, I just hesitated as long as she let me to put on the uniform.
Then she took me through the metal detector and I was officially in the prison. I was now a member of Litchfield, Litchfield prison- not the school.
