I awoke to the familiar dim room I spent my days in. Only a single, dusty light bulb shone upon my living quarters. Concrete walls and a metal door with a little, barred window. Cozy. A metal ring was bolted to the wall as a makeshift basketball hoop. A tennis ball sat on a wobbly table I used to put things on. Books and papers were scattered across. Before I got here, I didn't really like reading. Now, that was one of the few things I could spend my time doing.

Something was a bit off today. I could feel it in the air. I knew I was right when I heard the door to the cell across the hall slam shut. Curious, I crept towards my door. I pressed my back against the wall and listened to what was happening.

"And stay in there!"a guard shouted.

I heard distant mumbling.

"What was that?"he demanded.

"Nothing. I said nothing."

When the guard was out of sight, I debated calling across the hall. We wouldn't get in trouble, of course. The guards only cared if we were breaking out or killing other people. Sometimes, I only think they care about the first thing.

"What're you in for?"I called.

"Why do you care?"

"This is the maximum security section. They don't let us out to see the sun. You'll get bored eventually. When you do, I'll be here."

"Whatever."

I rolled my eyes. The new people were usually upset about getting caught. For a while, I was. Then, I decided to get adjusted to my new life. This is how things would be for a very long time. If I'm lucky, I'll get out before I'm a hundred. That's an exaggeration, of course. My sentence is only fifteen years. At least, it was. I stopped counting the days that slipped through my fingers since I've got here. They don't want us to get too pale, so they let us outside once a month. We get to spend three hours in the sun. Then, we get ushered back to our cells.

I picked up the tennis ball and tossed it into the metal hoop on the wall. I guess I got better at basketball over the months I'd been here. That was something. I ended up taking a nap. When I woke up again, it was the all too familiar sound of a plastic tray being dropped onto the concrete floor.

"Rise and shine, Price,"a guard called,"Breakfast is served."

I smiled, recognizing who it was. There was one guard that had been friends with my step-dad. He was an alright dude. Every morning, he would bring me a newspaper to read. There wasn't a rule against it, but the other guards weren't anywhere near as nice. When they handcuffed people, they always put it on a little too tight. Then, they'd jerk on the chain between your wrists until it leaves you bruised.

"Ugh,"the girl across the hall groaned,"I don't think I can eat this slop."

"It's a lot like public school food."

I heard her laugh, but I could tell she wasn't happy.

"What are you in here for?"

"I'll tell you if you tell me first,"I said, taking a bite out of a "biscuit" that had no taste.

"Okay, so I was supposed to spend six years in here for involuntary manslaughter possession of cocaine. Then, I got in a mess with some of the other prisoners and I was sent here after only a few days."

"Who'd you kill?"

"There was a girl at school. I spread a video around school and bullied her. Long story short, the girl jumped off a roof."

"Damn. I'm in here for dealing drugs and I also shot a dude."

"Why?"

"Nobody fucks with me. At least, that's what I used to think. After spending so long in here, you kinda let go of all your anger and just start hating yoruself. I mean, there's no one else to blame."

"I'm Victoria, by the way."

"Chloe."

"I feel like we're going to be stuck together for a long time."

"Hey, how old are you?"

"Nineteen. You?"

"Twenty."

"And you've been in here for how long?"

"Dunno. I got in here at seventeen or eighteen, so I've been in here for a couple years, I guess."

"Damn."

"Yeah. I think we'll get along alright, Victoria."

"I hope so. I think talking to someone is a lot better than sitting in a quiet cell all day."

"You gotta get yourself some excercise."

"How?"

"I dunno. Maybe do some push ups, crunches, hell I don't know."

"Is that what you do?"

"Sometimes, yes. I gotta look good to impress all the girls."

"What do you look like?"she asked, suddenly.

"I wish I could show you, but these damn doors aren't good for seeing people."

"Describe yourself. I'll try to imagine you."

"Alright. Um. I used to have blue hair, but it's mostly faded. It's a little longer than I like it. Now, I usually pull it back to get it out of the way."

"Okay. Go on."

"I got a tatoo on one of my arms. Lots of flowers and a skull. Crazy stuff."

"Okay."

"I guess I'm kinda tall. I'm like five nine."

"Is that it?"

"I don't know what else to say. Okay, your turn."

"Alright. So, I have blonde hair and it's really short. Right now, it's kind of a mess, but usually it isn't. I think I look kinda tired. Maybe it's the drugs?"

"Probably."

"My nails are black and I'm wearing this stupid uniform they put us in."

I laughed. "Alright. I can kinda figure out what I think you look like from that. We're not so good at describing things, I guess."

"No. We aren't."

"Before I came here, I was a photography student."

"Really?"

"Yeah. A few people told me I could make a lot of money in the business. Then, I ended up here. I'm such an idiot."

"You can't be as stupid as me. You didn't mean to kill someone. I did. In fact, I didn't think twice about it. It was just bam! And he was dead. Now, I wish I hadn't. I guess it isn't so bad here. Nobody can bother me. I got a cool girl across the hall from me. They said they might lower my sentence if I'm on my best behaviour."

"I guess we always have each other."

"That's the best company we're going to get for a long time."

"Yeah."

"You don't sound so good."

"Just a little shaken up."

"They tossed you pretty hard. You must be pretty thin if they could toss you just like that. I heard you hit pretty hard."

"The ground isn't the most comfortable place to land."

"Makes sense."

I heard her laugh. It was different from the usual shouting from the guy down the hall. Of course, it was a good different. Anything was better than screaming, except maybe more screaming. As I thought this, the guy down the hall started up his screaming.

"Must be that time of the morning,"I called over the noise.

"Does he do this everyday?"

"Every morning and every night."

"Why?"

"I dunno."

"Wonderful."

I set my tray back on the floor and moved to the door. I gripped one of the metal bars in my hand. Through the tiny window, I couldn't see much. I noticed a guard running down the hall towards the screaming guy.

"CAN SOMEBODY FUCKING SHUT THAT GUY UP?"the person in the cell next door shouted.

"We're working on. Please remain calm,"another guard said.

After a few minutes, the screaming stopped. From what I understood, he had to be sedated and then injected with his meds. That way, he doesn't disturb the other inmates. I wasn't sure what his problem was, but it was good to have peace again.

"I think I'm going to do some thinking,"Victoria said,"I guess I'll talk to you later."

"Yeah."

I walked over to the mattress I used as a bed. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but it was better than being on the floor. I heard two knock on the wall. I smiled a little and knocked three times back. There was a tiny crack in the wall that was just wide enough to slip paper through. We were supplied with paper and dull pencils if we were well behaved. Of course, we had to ask for it. If we met their standards, they'd give us a pencil and paper towrite or draw anything we wanted. When one of us knocked twice, the other could respond with two or three knocks. Two meant we didn't want to talk and three meant we were ready. A piece of paper torn from a notebook slipped through the crack. I recognized the code names we had. It was just in case anyone found the papers were wrote.

Star: New person across the hall?

Blue: Yeah. She seems nice.

Star: Sweet.

Blue: I guess.

Star: How much left on your sentence?

Blue: Like 12 years. You?

Star: 10 or 11 I think

Blue: We'll be getting out at around the same time, I guess.

Star: Yeah. Unless we're really good. I'm not in a rush, though.

Blue: Why? I figured you'd be all over getting out of here and hitting the clubs as soon as you get on parole.

Star: It's not too bad in here, actually. Free food, no work, no people to bother me, and no responsibilities. Besides, I have you. What more do I need?

Blue: Don't you get bored?

Star: Nah. You're fun to talk to.

Blue: Right back atcha

Star: You're such a dork.

Blue: You would know. You've been talking to me for as long as we've been in here.

Star: And we still haven't met?

Blue: We don't get the same outside time. Mine's at the beginning of the month and yours is at the end.

Star: That sucks ASS

Blue: I thought prison wasn't so bad?

Star: Okay fine. I can't stand being locked up in here.

Blue: Exactly. All I really have is my own thoughts sometimes.

Star: I feel you there. Sometimes, you wake me up in the middle of the night to talk about what's on your mind.

Blue: I think a lot, okay?

Star: I won't judge.

Blue: Whatever. I'm going to read this book again.

Star: Have fun.

I tossed the pencil back onto the desk and picked up a book I had read far too many times. In a couple days, I'd get to trade my books. That was always exciting. Sometimes, you could read what some of the other inmates had written. Since they can't really ask people what they think, you can write it down on a seperate sheet and have it sent back when the cart came back around. This book, though, was one of things I managed to get someone to let me keep with me. The other was a handful of pictures. When you don't cause any trouble for two or three years, the guards tend to let you get away with things. I sat on my mattress and leaned against the wall. I opened to the familiar first page and began reading.

I spent like ten minutes trying to figure out Victoria's nail color and at least half an hour looking up jail time for manslaughter and possession of drugs as well as dealing drugs. Some of it may not even be right. The things I do for fanfiction. I was writing another chapter on "Being Nice," but I got distracted. I was watching some video game when I thought of this. Then, bam. I had to write it. I think "Being Nice" will be a mostly light hearted, fluffy story while this one is like prison, drugs, murder. Great stuff.