Prison Mates

Chapter 8

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Chapter 8

“Name.” The tired women behind the bullet proof glass window demanded. She looked and sounded like she smoked two packs of cigarettes a day, and had been doing so since the day she turned fifteen.

“Evie.” I said my eyes skittering around the entrance area we were in.

“FULL name.” She croaked glaring at me with a tired, I-don’t-got-no-time-for-your-shit-kid look.

“Evangeline Elliott.” I said quickly.

“Age?”

“21.” I said, as she continued to fill out her piece of paper.

“You’ll be in cell block B,” She said sliding a plastic bracelet underneath the glass, picking it up I saw it had all my basic information on it.

“What does ‘class four’ mean?” I asked in confusion, as I looked at new least favourite piece of jewellery.

“It’s your security classification,” She said, her eyes already glued back on the small television next to her. “You’re not allowed to take that off by the way. Ever.”

“We’ll know if you do.” I turned surprised to look at my second escort, who was glaring at me like I had already tried to do it.

“Ok,” I said wanting to get away from him and his accusing stares. He had greasy dark hair and looked about the same age as my other blonde escort, but he had a mean, cruel look about him. I think it was the way his mouth curled downwards, or maybe it was the way his eyes were just a bit too close together.

He reminded me of a chubby pit bull, one that had been inbreed a little.

As he continued to glare at me, I decided I should probably not tell him that.

I clicked the bracelet onto my wrist as they led me through down the long concrete hallway.

A shiver ran down my spine as I shuffled forward nervously in front of my two escorts, I swallowed anxiously as I realised we were walking next to cells filled with male prisoners dressed in blue and grey cloths, who were looking up from whatever they had been doing to stare at us curiously as we walked past.

I quickly stopped making eye contact with the men, the looks they were giving me made me feel like I was naked.

“Hey pretty thing!” the tense silence we had been walking in was suddenly shattered by one of the men.