Plop.
Plop, plop.
Plop.
Velma rolled over on her side, pulling the blankets over her head. The sound of the dripping water from the rusty old sink which she had been hearing every night for the past month had been driving her crazy.
Plop.
Plop, plop.
"Someone turn that damn water off!"
At first there was silence, and Velma sat up in the dark, waiting.
Plop, plop.
Velma let out a frustrated yell, angrily throwing the blankets off her. "I've had it!" she yelled, gripping the iron bars. "Mama! Mama; lemme outta here!"
Annie, who was in the cell next to her, groggily got out of bed and walked to the bars. "Velma baby, it's no use," she said softly. "You know there's nothing we can do 'bout the water."
"It's better than that damn poppin' noise!" Liz's voice was heard from the cell next to Annie's.
Velma struck her hand against the bars angrily, walking back towards the bed. It was past two o'clock, but she was no longer tired. She leaned back against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. The little crack in one of the tiles had always captured her attention when she couldn't sleep, for some strange reason. She stared at it, wondering what she'd be doing if she wasn't in jail. If she hadn't walked in on Charlie and Veronica that one night. She sighed, looking ahead of her into pure darkness. She was a night person. She'd sleep in all day and then go out with a couple of friends at night. If she wasn't stuck in this hellhole, she'd probably be at some jazz club, drinking and having a good time with her friends. Or her sister. Or Charlie.
She let out a deep breath, thinking about Charlie. That bastard. To think that she had fallen for such a dirty bum. She didn't belong here, she had suffered enough. Walking in on the two had been traumitizing enough for her. She finally laid back down on her back, staring up at the ceiling. Oh well, she thought to herself. Knowing that they were both rotting in opposite sides of Hell comforted her a bit. She closed her eyes and and before she knew it, the breakfast bell was ringing.