I was nervous.

No, maybe not nervous.

More like anxious…maybe.

But that's natural. Being interviewed for a new job can get anyone tense. Just to think I was at the precinct a few weeks prior to being promoted to a correctional officer seems like a dream. Or a nightmare.

Don't get me wrong, I was ecstatic to hear about it. But the place they were transferring me to is enough to change my mood from happy to downright terrified in seconds.

I knew that going to the police academy would be a HUGE change in my life. People thought I wouldn't last three days there because I was small in height. When I told my sister, she was immediately against it. But after countless arguments with her, she finally warmed up to the idea. Well, not really "warmed" up. When she called that early morning, all she said was, "You're a big girl, so you can make your own decisions now." That was about as much of a go-head from her I'll ever get on the matter.

After graduating from the academy, I was assigned to the precinct doing paper work then as a dispatcher. Was I mad? Of course I was, but I sucked it up and did what I had to do. I was fully dedicated to my job because I wear this uniform with pride. A few years later, I was gradually climbing my way up the ranks because of my dedication. Maybe I climbed too high and got a big head, who knows? All I know is that my success might end up being my downfall when I heard that they were sending me to W.L. Maximum Security Prison.

I felt sick to my stomach when I found out. That prison was a house full of nut-jobs and whackos. When I worked the phones I heard countless rumors about the place. It holds five hundred of the most ruthless and blood thirsty killers. There have been numerous standoffs and riots between gang members as well. One of the rumors I've heard from the place was an inmate who was a huge germaphobe and practically went on a killing spree in the suburb he lived in when one of the neighbor's dogs went number two on his yard. He claimed that "I was simply cleansing the world of its stains, no harm done." Another one was a therapist who purposely made his patients have a meltdown and kill themselves; the total count of suicides was twenty six. "It was bound to happen, not all cases can be fixed just like that, all I did was sped up the process," that was his statement when he walked out of the courthouse to the prison when found guilty. But they all are kept on a tight leash by the warden, Vivaldi Heart, who ran the whole show. People commend her for strict rules and routines. She was supposed to be a cold, harsh woman with a sharp tongue.

And here I am, standing in front of the desk of which she sat behind with her fingers laced together. I tried my best to not appear fidgety or anything, but something about this woman just kicked my senses into high alert. Her violet eyes took in every inch of my frame. I felt exposed and vulnerable, like being on an operating table and laid out for the world to see. In summary, it gave me chills.

"Alice Liddell."

I twitched, hopefully she didn't notice. She picked up the manila folder that held my credentials and scanned over them with a sweep of her eyes. "It seems your reputation precedes you, I'm impressed," she commented as she flipped through the various papers. Anyone could practically hear the breath that even I didn't know I was holding being blown out. Vivaldi glanced up at me and gave the faintest smile, "No need to be so tense, after all you are new here and it seems you're going to be a worthy asset to this facility."

"Thank you ma'am."

Her smile soon faded and was switched with a slight frown, "I told you to calm yourself child, and don't call me ma'am, Vivaldi is just fine."

Seeing as I still had stiff shoulders, she sighed and her tone became very sharp when she narrowed her eyes at me, "That was an order Liddell." It took me a few seconds to try and relax a bit. What can I say, this woman terrifies me. "Much better," she smiled and opened her desk drawer to place my file in with the other numerous ones.

"Now Alice, I assume you may have heard that I run a tight ship here as warden," Vivaldi spoke as she folded her hands in front of her and placed them on the desk, "You could say I worked hard to be where I am today." She turned in her cushioned chair and looked toward the blinded window with a faraway look.

I pray that this isn't going to be a long-winded speech on how she started from the bottom to here at the top. "Nevertheless, no one could step up to the plate to run this place, seeing as all the inmates here have quite the reputation here, I would like to believe that you have heard of them?" she questioned.

"From rumors that I've heard, yes," I confirmed. She smiled and fully faced me, "Good. Well I'm going to tell you now that all those rumors are indeed true."

I felt a sudden heaviness in the room as she continued to speak, "Since you are going to be working here, I will tell you some of the basics on how things work around here.

"First, the prison is divided into five floors; from bottom to top they are: No Man's Land, Diamond, Clover, Spade, and Heart. No Man's Land is for the everyday murderers, thieves, and assaulters. They never tend to last long here, seeing as they like to get rid of each other on a daily basis as well as some profound miracle that they are sent free only to be sent right back. The Diamond section has received its name from having a prisoner carving diamonds on his victims after he kills them. This happened way back from when I was a little girl and my Father was the warden. Of course, he gave him a proper execution, seeing as he was already on death row, but when officers came to clear out his cell there was nothing but roughly carved diamonds inside the place. Every inch of his cell were covered in them, save for the toilet and bed. When I first came to be here, I ordered the cell to be re-painted to cover the carvings, but as years pass the paint started to peel over and over again so we left it as is. It looks like something straight out of a horror movie if you see it around here."

I shuddered at the thought.

"The Clover section is most likely to be the easiest to handle. But do not take them for granted; they are very discreet with their crimes. They never leave evidence for they have others to clean their mess up for them and always pins the blame on those under them. Reason being for that is because they are fairly wealthy, but whenever the trial comes, there will always be enemies wanting to see you behind bars. That's the problem with big money, always trying to size each other up by the pile of money they live on. Someone pays a person to tell a lie to save their skin and another comes along with twice as much. Guess who ends up being screwed over? Back in the renaissance era, the clover or club always represent wealth so my father decided to call that specific section Clover. The name stuck ever since.

"Then there's the Spade section which is made up of gang leaders, mafia bosses, you name it. There will always be a commotion on that floor because of rival gang members but it's mostly all bark and no bite. That is until their current leaders gets involved then it's an all-out war, but don't worry we haven't had one of those in months, not saying that they've stopped or anything."

I kept a firm look on my face when I processed all the information she gave me. This prison's reputation is one to be reckoned with.

"Now there's the Heart section which is the top floor of the prison and by far the most bloodiest. We have majority of the guards posted on that floor at all times with twenty three hours of surveillance. Prisoners as well as officers end up disappearing in late hours of the night, so we have to keep a watchful eye on them. The remaining hour from the twenty is for the officers to escort them to the registered therapist to try and mold them back to reasonable citizens they once were."

After the briefing, she gave me my hours for the following week. She told me that my job for the remainder of the week is to get accustomed to the prison. "I don't have time for newbies getting lost on the first day. If you do somehow end up lost, I pray for your safe, unharmed return," she specified on the topic. A knock came right after the discussion.

"Permission to enter."

"Granted," Vivaldi answered while opening up her drawer to pull out more folders.

The door opened to reveal a man in his late twenties with a calm smile on his face holding more documents for Vivaldi to read. His red tresses fell around his face, almost but not nearly enough to cover his ruby colored eyes. He walked passed me and I could've sworn I smelt a hint of chocolate come from him. Maybe it was my imagination.

"These are more files on the upcoming prisoners to NML," he clarified as he handed them to the Warden. "Thank you White and before I forget, this," she waved her hand towards me, "is your new correctional officer Alice Liddell, she'll be in your guards unit." I smiled weakly at the man to appear friendly. He gave me a nod of his head in recognition and said, "Nice to meet you Alice. My name is Joker White but you may call me White or Officer White, I look forward to you working with me."

I nodded as White gave his report and left the room. I turned my attention back to Vivaldi and asked, "Pardon me for asking but is his name REALLY Joker?"

She shrugged her shoulders, "It's what the state gave him and his brother, so I don't question it much."

"He has a brother that works here?" I asked curiously. "Yes he does actually," Vivaldi confirmed as she skimmed over the papers before tossing them on her desk and leaning back in her chair, "but he isn't exactly…creditable but he gets the job done.

"Now as for you working here, I want you to stick to White's side at all times, the last thing we need is you getting cornered by inmates here." I laughed lightly and said with confidence, "I'm pretty sure I can handle myself just fine." "I have trust in your abilities. Nevertheless, he is your supervisor and anything you do will be accountable on both ends," the warden recounted.

A silent red alarm flashed in the office as a distant bell began to ring. "Well it seems our new prisoners are here," Vivaldi laid her palms flat on the desk as she stood up; "Let me show you how a real professional does it."

/

REVISION COMPLETE

Maybe these AP classes are paying off. Revision is now my best friend because looking back on the one I had is painful.

I'm doing this story in Alice's P.O.V. for the time being

Drop me a review if you want!