Orange is the new hell.

Chapter One: Brought this onto myself.

Orange is the new hell

Chapter one

"Brought this onto myself." 

 Author's note: Sadly, I do not own Alex Vause, Piper Chapman, or the concept for Orange Is The New Black. Jordan, Cassey, Ryan, and ET are however, my characters, with my backstories.

**There's Two pages to this chapter, be sure to read both!**

Jordan glanced around at the huge prison that stood before her, people hustling around every corner. Shouting and screaming. A cold shiver shot throughout her whole body, and for a bit, she didn't know if it was because of fear or heroin withdrawal. Then the cravings started. She missed the rush more than anything. That rush you get when you first shoot it up.

That's when she realized it was withdrawal, and these next few days, no, years, would be hell.

The redhead snapped back to reality when she felt someone shove blankets and a pillow into her face, she took them in her arms, mumbling a quiet, hoarse, "Thanks," before following behind the officer.

She made eye contact with no one, spoke to no one. She didn't want to say anything wrong. She had to watch herself here, this wasn't like the streets, you couldn't see someone once and then never see them again. You had to live with these girls everyday, and one wrong thing could mean a hell-ish living style.

Her temporary bunking area wasn't any five-star hotel, but it definitely wasn't the dirty, damp streets of NYC. Two sets of bunk beds pressed against each wall, a woman in all but one. The minute she stepped into her new room, an older lady spoke up. She looked almost too old to be in prison. Her hair grey and cut short.

"Who are you?" she spoke in an aging, scraggly voice that reminded Jordan faintly of her grandma. Only without the purse full of hard candies. There was a gruesome scar cascading from the tip of her hair line down to her chin on the right side of her face. It went down in an angle, crossing over her eye lid and just barely missing her mouth.

"I said, who are you?" the woman spoke again, this time becoming annoyed with Jordan's silence.

For the first time since her court date yesterday, the redhead spoke properly. It had been so long that her voice no longer sounded like her voice to her. it sounded like someone else's, "Jordan Jensen."

"Well, kid," a girl said from the bunk above the scarred woman, "I'm Cassey, this is Ryan," she pointed to the scarred woman, "and that," she said, her finger moving so she was pointing to the right of Jordan, "Is who we call ET."

There was a small laugh from Jordan's right and she looked over at the girl. She was tall, with long, dirty-blonde hair that was braided down her back. "I'm Elizabeth Taylor," the girl clarified, "But, these guys call me ET." Jordan nodded understandingly. Silence filled the room until Cassey spoke again,

"Three things you need to know; One, around here we usually go by last names or nicknames. Two, always sleep on top of your bed, covered in your extra blanket. And three, never, ever go into the washroom without shoes on. There is some nasty fungus in there." The more Cassey spoke, the more Jordan could hear the slight southern accent that seeped through her words. Cassey had messy black hair that seemed to stick up in every direction from her head, and her eyes were sunken into her face from years of drug use. At least, that's what Jordan assumed.

As afternoon faded into evening, Jordan made her way down to the dinning hall. her red-orange hair was pinned back from her face, revealing her sunken in eyes and prominent cheek bones from her time on the streets.

"Kid, move it!" She heard the voice come from behind her, a terrifying, loud voice which anywhere but here probably wouldn't be as terrifying. Jordan took her food and scanned the room, trying to find a place to sit. Her stomach twisted and turned and she had nearly no appetite.

"Hey, you must be new here," a blonde woman said. Jordan looked at the table she was now standing in front of. she had no remembrance of walking here. Jordan nodded slowly, hesitantly,

"That I am," she said simply.

"Here, take a seat," The blonde girl gestured for Jordan to sit down, and with another lurch of her stomach, she did. "I'm Chapman, this is Vause," Chapman pointed to the girl next to her, a rather attractive looking girl, with Raven black hair and glasses.

"I'm Jensen," Jordan said, twirling a bit of under-cooked pasta around her fork. she didn't eat. She couldn't bring herself to, the withdrawal was already getting the best of her. Her head pounded, she was freezing cold and her appetite had practically disappeared. Each second that passed felt like an hour, as she waited for one of the girls to speak again.

"So, Jensen, what are you in for?" Vause asked. Her voice was something Jordan just couldn't explain. It was beautiful and scary all at the same time.

"I thought you weren't supposed to ask people that?" Jordan joked, pointing her fork at Vause like a mother would point at a misbehaving child.

"That's what I said!" Chapman spoke up, her mouth half-full of week old pasta.

"Swallow then talk, Pipes," Vause said through a small laugh, her eyes lingering on the blonde for just a few seconds more than needed before turning back to Jordan. Her eyes scanned her, before saying, "I'm going to take a wild guess here and say some kind of drug."

"Heroin addiction for four years," Jordan said. Her voice was filled with shame and embarrassment. She didn't know why. She was in a prison. There were hundreds of other girls like her.

"Whoa, four years? How old are you? 18, 19?" Vause seemed genuinely surprised at this.

"Nineteen. It started when I was fifteen." Jordan hated talking about her addiction. It was something that had caused so much shit in her life. it was something she had gone to great deals to hide. "Enough about me. What about you guys?"

"I worked for an international drug cartel," Vause said, almost casually, reaching over and taking a bit of Chapman's pasta.

"And I was her lesbian lover who somehow managed to get dragged down with her." Chapman said, glaring at the older girl in a way Jordan couldn't tell if it was jokingly or serious. Vause nudged Chapman with a grin, and then leaned over so she was talking lowly into her ear. Jordan couldn't hear what she said, but it made Chapman flustered, her cheeks turning the darkest shade of pink cheeks could turn. 

"You guys really do love each other, don't you?" The usually quiet girl said. She barely knew these two partners, but yet she still felt like they could be good friends, well, as good of friends as you could become in prison. 

"Well, I mean, I love Piper, but I think she's just in it for the sex," Vause said. Laughter was heard throughout the table. Maybe these next years wouldn't be too bad after all. As long as she stuck around with the right people.