Prisoners

ONE

"Annabeth! Wake up!" 

Someone was shaking me.

I groaned and rolled over. "Fuck off."

"Wake up!" Seriously, this person was planning on a short life if they carried on like this. I groaned.

"I swear to God, if you don't get the hell away, I will kill you," I warned, my eyes still closed.

There was a yelp and the shuffling of feet. I heard the clanging of bars, and then silence.

I smiled to myself and snuggled back into my pillow. More time to sleep. I drifted off again.

All of a sudden, a loud bell sounded. My eyes flew open. 

"Nnngghhh," I moaned, sitting up. "Every damn morning."

I dragged myself into the bathroom and stepped into the shower.

I wearily washed myself in the warm, inviting water — at least until my time was up and cold water rushed through the pipe.

Spluttering and grumbling about the bastards that ran this prison, I got dressed — the usual black cargo pants and black crop top. I liked it because it showed off my shiny new belly button ring — a birthday present from Thalia. I pulled on my black combat boots and then glanced in the mirror.

At least the prison bastards let us 'express ourselves' — piercings, clothes, tattoos, and more.

My stormy grey eyes were wide awake after my little ice bath, staring back at me. I applied mascara, but left out eyeliner. I absolutely despise make-up. My long, curly blond hair was messy. I ran a brush through it, but left it down. I was thinking about shaving one side of it, but this would have to do. 

At least I was tan, though I hated my blond hair; it made me look silly and stupid. I wanted to be edgy, not... surfer chic.

Sighing through my nose, I stood at the barred door of my cell, ready to be released into the courtyard. I pinned my badge that read QUADRANT ONE LEADER, PRISONER 65483 to my pants.

Every cell was the same; a dingy bed in the corner and a small bathroom with a shower, a vanity, and a toilet. A floor-to-ceiling mirror was on one wall, after Piper petitioned for it. For some reason she and a bunch of other girls from the Second Quadrant cared about their looks.

As if they weren't just going to see the guards and other girls all day.

I should be glad that Goode gave us a ton of freedom. No prison uniforms, no two-person cells; we were lucky.

As lucky as juvenile delinquents could get.

There was a beep, and all the doors swung open at once. I sighed and threw my hair back.

Just another day in prison. 

I'd been there for seven years; I was getting out at the end of December, in about five months. Thalia and Piper always hated me for this; they got less time in prison, but they would be here after me.

I walked out of my cell and searched the crowd for a dark head and a brown head. Finally I found them.

"Hey, bitches," I called. They stopped and turned.

"Annabeth!"

"Why didn't you wake up?"

"You're so late!"

"What?" I said bitterly.

Piper rolled her colorful eyes. "Come on, Annabeth! Today's the day we meet the boys' prison!"