It was 4pm at Wentworth, time for the kitchen women to start preparing tea. The weather outside the facility was terrible, and the atmosphere inside wasn't much better. Everyone seemed to be overly grumpy today.
Franky was already in the kitchen when I walked in. She caught sight of me and I knew I was in trouble.
"You're late Kitten." Franky shouted at me from across the kitchen. Kitten was Franky's nickname for me, and it had stuck.
I opened my mouth to argue, but I didn't have the energy to argue back. I wasn't feeling well at all. I just looked down at the floor. I turned around and went and got my apron of the hook.
"What no smart comment? No explanation or argument?" Franky called across the kitchen. Franky's got a huge soft spot for me, and she knows when I'm acting off straight away, even if it's only slightly.
"I'm sorry." I mumbled quietly.
"Right, now you're apologising! What's up?..." Franky said trotting across the kitchen towards me. I was only 17, and Franky is very protective over me. I think it's because she sees a lot of herself in me. She's sort of turned into my unofficial mentor, kind of like a big sister.
Franky came and stood next to me and put her hand on the small of my back. I elbowed her arm out of th way. She was dealing with food and I didn't want to make anyone else sick.
"I'm fine!" I snapped at her. I didn't want to be fussed over. I was grumpy as well.
"Don't give me that bullshit." Franky said back to me firmly. There was a couple of seconds of silence between us before I spoke.
"Franky, I don't feel great..." I mumbled weakly, I was beginning to feel worse.
"Have you taken anything? Has someone done something to you?" Franky blurted out. As I said, she's extremely protective of me. She doesn't want me to make the same mistakes that she has.
"No, no. Nothing like that...I just feel like I've been hit by a bus..." I replied, grabbing Franky's arm to stop myself from falling over. I'd started to feel a little bit faint.
"Woah..." She said carefully putting her arm around me to steady me.
Franky put the back of her other hand on to my forehead gently and I heard her gasp.
"Fuck..." She muttered under her breath.
"Shit babe, you are burning up!" She said to me. I groaned.
"Mr Jackson?" Franky called across the kitchen. Everyone in the kitchen stopped what they where doing.
"Do you want something Doyle?" He called back. Mr Jackson was the officer on duty supervising the women in the kitchen.
"Yes I do as it happens. Can you escort Kitten to medical please? She's not well." Franky replied.
"She's might be a kid, but she's old enough to get herself there, I'm sure." Mr Jackson replied, in a mocking, unhelpful tone.
"She won't go unless she's escorted. Do you really want to argue this with me?" Franky replied, putting her foot down. All the women in the kitchen were looking at him.
"I can't leave my post while I'm on duty...however, Miss Westfall here can, I'm sure, can't you?" Mr Jackson said calling over to Bridget. Bridget had walked past the kitchen just at the right time.
"I can what?" Bridget smiled as she walked into the kitchen. She stood next to Mr Jackson, and scanned the room. Her eyes locked with Franky's and they smirked at each other.
"Kitten here needs taking to medical, she's burning up, and I know she won't go unless she's made to, I'd just feel happier knowing she's gone with a responsible adult." Franky winked at Bridget.
"Well I don't mind taking her." Bridget smiled.
"Just look after her okay Gidge? She's really not well..." Franky said. She turned her head and pressed her lips into my forehead. She still had her arm around me and was attempting to comfort me by rubbing my arm. I had pulled the sleeves of my teal hoodie down over my hands and I was chewing the end of one of the sleeves, and I'd lent my head into Franky's neck so I was leaning on her.
"You don't look very well darling, come with me and I'll take you down to medical and we'll see what they can do..." Bridget said turning to me, and softening her tone. I looked up at Franky, silently asking her permission.
"Go on..." Franky said removing her arm from around me. I didn't know Bridget very well, I just sit there quietly during the group sessions and I don't see her privately very often. I'm not much of a talker.
I continued chewing the end of my sleeve, and reluctantly followed Bridget out of the kitchen.
"How do you feel?" Bridget asked in a soft, caring tone.
"Shit..." I sighed, I felt terrible.
"Hopefully medical can give you something." Bridget smiled and rubbed my arm to comfort me.
We walked in silence for a minute before I stopped suddenly and let out a quiet wimper.
"Hey, honey, what's wrong?" Bridget asked, also stopping. She was going into mother mode.
"Bridget..I'm going to be sick..." I said urgently. I was going into panic mode.
I put one hand on the wall, bent over, and wimpered a little. Bridget grabbed the cleaning bucket that was in the corridor and made it back to me just in time. She put it down in front of me and just after I was looking at my lunch for the second time that day. Bridget held my hair out of the way, and she rubbed my back until I had finished throwing up.
"Aw Kit.." Bridget whispered, fussing over me, and rubbing circles in my back, attempting to try and make me feel better. I was stood there wimpering like a small child, not know what to do. I felt extremely vulnerable.
I tried to stand up straight but the pain in my stomach was too intense. I bent over again, and slid down the wall. I knew there was no way I could walk the rest of the way to medical by myself, and Bridget couldn't exactly carry me. I expected her to run to get help.
"You're really not well are you sweetheart?" Bridget said to herself, as she rolled her sleeves up. I didn't realise what she was doing.
She bent down next to me and scooped me up into her arms off the floor. I'm 17, average height but skinny, so I don't weigh much, but Bridget is definitely stronger than she looks. She carried me like a baby to medical. I could feel myself getting weaker and weaker, all I wanted to do was go to sleep. My eyelids were getting really heavy, and I was struggling to keep my eyes open.
"Hey, stay with me Kitts..." Bridget whispered to me.
"We're nearly there..." She added.
"HELP!" Bridget shouted as she burst in through the door to the sick bay. She gently lay me down on the bed, and turned to a woman I'd never seen before.
"Right, what do we have here?" An unfamiliar voice asked. It seemed we had a temporary doctor in as our usual one was away on Holiday. Nice for some.
"This is Kit, she's 17. She's not feeling great, and has just thrown up. She was complaining of stomach pains and then collapsed and here we are..." Bridget told her, in a very professional tone. The woman walked across the room to put on some gloves before examining me. Bridget came and stood by the bed I was laying on and she stroked the side of my face tenderly.
"I'm scared Bridget" I whimpered quietly. I'm not good at handling being poorly.
"Do you want me to stay?" She asked.
I nodded.
Bridget stayed with me and talked to me, not as a psychiatrist, but as a friend, until I'd been examined, and I'd calmed down enough and gone to sleep after having some anti nausea medication and pain killers.
"So what's the diagnosis doc?" Bridget smiled over to the doctor.
"She's feverish, but there doesn't seem to be a lot else wrong with her. I'll be keeping a close eye on her for the next couple of hours and if she's okay and not sick again she can sleep in her own cell tonight." The doctor replied. Bridget nodded.
"Right, well I need to get back. I'll drop by later with an inmate and make sure she's alright." Bridget said looking at her watch.
"I'll be here. I'll see you then!" The doctor smiled.