Prison Chicks

Freedom, gone.

My name's Camila, and today I was arrested. I was woken up at 5am to handcuffs being put on and the words "You have the right to remain silent." bellowing through my bedroom. Now... I am sat in this dim beige room by a small office surrounded by men and women in grey uniforms, and a giant metal barred gate right in plain sight.

"Name?" This large bulky man came and sat beside me holding a clipboard.

"Camila F-Faith."

"Ironic. Age?" He begins to write.

"19."

"Do you know why you're here?"

"N-no."

"Shocker." His sarcasm was really starting to wind me up. "Do you know much about your mother's death?"

My mums... dead? "Wait... m-my mums d-dead?" My eyes well with tears.

"You really want to play that card? A man rang up early this morning, saying he could hear lots of screaming next door."

"I c-can assure you I know nothing, I was asleep."

"That's not what the evidence says." He carries on writing.

"M-my step dad, was he there? He and mum argue all the time. I mean... argued.. Shes.. g-gone now."

"No. No one besides you in the house. There were no reports of him leaving, there was no DNA of anyone besides you on the weapon used."

I have not got an aggressive bone in my body... but right now I am being accused of something drastic... devastation wrecks havoc inside me.

"That's fucked! I didn't do shit! I hugged my mum goodnight and went to sleep way before i was being dragged out of my own house and acc-"

"Inmate pipe down! All the evidence points to you, you will need a pretty compelling case to be set free. A 3.5 year sentence for murder due to your age and it being your first conviction... still not long enough in my eyes." He gets up and walks over to the front desk, slamming the clipboard down.

"Inmate? A 3.5 year sentence? I WAS FRAMED!" I scream to him as he walks through the metal barred gate completely ignoring the fact I was left alone.

My mothers gone, I knew my step dad was abusive but I didn't realise the extent... If I could've just done something to help maybe we would be happy and she would be alive now... Worst of all... I've been framed for my own mother's death, with probably no chance of saying goodbye to her now I'm in what feels like prison. She was my best friend... I can't comprehend all this.

Tears falling from my eyes, across my reddened cheeks. Mostly the feelings of rage and grief mixed together. A woman walks towards me holding clothes and a bag.

"Follow me." She grabs my arm and pulls me into a room with her. The room was drab, nothing colourful in sight, just a table and another woman in grey uniform. "Stand there." She points to a small cross painted on the floor. I do as told and stand on the cross. *crr crr, assistance is required in the rec room.* Sounds her radio, "Take over, I will be back to help processing." and with that she walks off leaving me in the room with the other woman.

"I'm Officer McDonaldson." She says lightly while closing the door. "I know it's scary, but it gets better, kinda." She sympathetically smiles at me.

"I-I was framed."

"Even if you were, don't fight it, you are here now. I know how it all works. I will always be around if you need guidance. Now, let's get the strip search over with yeah?"

"Strip search?" My heart fills with unexplainable panic, I have to get naked in front of a stranger...

"Please don't make this hard for me, I'm sure you have nothing to be ashamed of."

Ah, only my bruises from Kevin. That's right, I refuse to call him my step dad any longer, for what it's worth, he is dead to me. But, I clearly have no choice in whether I strip or not, so I remove my clothes reluctantly, quivering wishing I was dead instead of my dear mother.

"Those bruises... What happened?"

"The same guy I suspect framed me, and killed my mother. Kevin."

"That's not right. You should seek medical attention, they look pretty bad."

"No point. I will be fine, can we get this over with please."

"Of course..." Officer McDonaldson sounds concerned. I can see why, but honestly the bruises don't equate to any pain considering what I've found out today.

"Legs apart, arms wide and mouth open." She walks closer to me, inspecting every nook and cranny of my body. The squat and cough was the worst. But it was over quicker than it began. Officer McDonaldson hands me grey clothes. "The uniform. It's not fancy, but It does look quite comfy. Oh and here-" She passes me a bag, "Just a few essentials until your commissary money comes through."

"Uhm thank you so much, but... I don't have money." I slide my legs into the grey prison joggers I was handed.

"Every new inmate gets a 3 pounds starter budget, then you will be able to earn when you are assigned a job. Just be wise on how you spend it, you don't earn more than 25p an hour per job, jobs only last about 3 hours."

"So 75p a day. That's a bit low don't you think?"

"It's prison, not the lottery." Her tone changed with me in the blink of an eye. What did I do wrong?

"I know jus-"

"Right I'm back. Is she all set? Yep good. Great work McDonaldson. Inmate Faith, follow me." The other woman was back, this time she didn't grab me. I wonder if that's why Officer McDonaldson's tone changed... can't be seen being nice to prisoners right? I followed this other woman, she asked me to sign some papers, which I did with no questions. She grabbed my arm again and walked me to the giant metal barred gate. Above it read "HOTSWORTH CORRECTIONAL FACILITY"

"Welcome home inmate." She opens the gate, and I walk through, hearing it close and lock behind me. This is where I will be for the next 3.5 years. Freedom, gone.