Alison

8

"Your dad wants you to wear this nice dress to your first court appearance." Israel stood before her and held up a flowered dress with red and pink roses all over it. She wrinkled her nose in disgust as Israel let out a chuckle and put the dress down. "I'm going to ask you to take this deal one more time, or we're going to have to take this to trial. And that's not only expensive, but it may come out worse than what we need." He opened his briefcase and pulled out the paper. Alison took it and looked it over again. 19 years in a mental institution vs. life without parole in prison? If she goes to trial, she could lose. The public already doesn't like her because they think she is a murderer. Nobody believes her when she tells her story. Grabbing the pen, Alison signed the deal and handed the paper back to Israel. Buzzing for the guard to take her back to her room, she turned to look at Israel one more time before leaving. "I knew you did it." Steve was waiting for her by her door. She rolled her eyes and walked inside her room to lay down. "Now the question is why?" Steve followed her inside and stood by the steel sink. Alison sat up, and looked around the room for something big enough to take her out. Of course there wasn't anything. "I only took the deal because my lawyer told me too. That's why I'm in here and not getting ready for court." Alison said watching the ginormous lady carefully. "Troy! We are supposed to transport you immediately to your new home. Court orders." The correctional officer walked in the room, causing Alison to sigh in relief. She got up and slid past Steve making her way out of the room.

The van drove down the long road that looked suspect. It looked like a page torn right out of a scary movie. The kind where Jason comes out of the woods carrying the long machete knife thing. Or where Michael Myers is standing in the road behind you, watching you drive away while doing that head tilt thing.  Alison leaned on the window and looked outside as that ride seemed to go on for hours.

"Welcome home." The driver said as they pulled up to the barbed wire gate. They slid open, allowing the van to drive through, revealing  a large white 4 story building. Wellington Mental Institution. Alison sat up and looked at the place which would house her for the next 19 years. Two big burly men in uniforms were waiting for her at the door. "Meet Alison Troy" the correctional officer said to one of the guys, as he passed off the Manila folder to them. The smaller guy with the black hair opened the door to the van allowing Alison to get out. She stood up and dusted off the red jumpsuit. "Follow me Alison." The guy said. He looked a lot younger than his big partner, who looked like he ate steroids for breakfast. They unlocked her shackles and took the handcuffs off of her. She looked at them in surprise as she rubbed her wrists. "Oh don't look so smug. You don't need those here, I'll knock yo little red haired ass back into place. This is a whole new ball game here. I'm officer Stanley, and that's officer Michaels. You disrespect the doctors here and get out of line here, you will be put back in the line with any necessary force. You act up and they can't get you to calm down, that's when we step in, and you do not want us to step in. Understood?" He asked, keying in the code to the door, and holding it open. Alison nodded and walked past him letting officer Michaels lead her to registration.