Delinquent

by SapphireMalice

The latest addition to Litchfield is Malikova, who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time... high on crack and setting fire to a library, that is. Red can't help but notice similarities between the half-Russian and her most difficult daughter. A series mostly surrounding the day to day life of Red's family, loosely following the events of the series. Rated T for language.

1. Chapter 1

Author's Note:
Welcome to my first story... go me. As mentioned in the description this piece is pretty oneshotty, subject to change as I get ideas on how to progress the story (suggestions much appreciated).

Thanks!

"Squat and cough, Inmate," Bell said, her voice like an old foghorn.

With a roll of her eyes, Malikova complied; she was too caught up in her own self-pity to feel embarrassed. A less than friendly shove jostled her back to reality: she was going to prison. Not juvy ... Prison.
Sitting with the big kids now, Mali. She thought. She had decided to face the Litchfield experience with her ever-present sarcasm, which had embedded itself into her personality long before any other traits showed up. As she walked to the van waiting outside Malikova caught one final glimpse of her freedom; her clothes sat abandoned on a table. They were tattered and the blue of her jeans had faded two shades more than when she first got them, but they were hers. In her starched and baggy uniform she tried to avoid thinking of the hundreds - maybe even thousands - of women who had worn it before her. At least it's warm. She told herself, hugging the jacket around her small frame.

The van was driven by a girl known as Morello. Malikova figured she would look similar to the driver had she put any effort into her own appearance. Whilst Morello's dark chocolate hair was something straight out of the 50s, Malikova's was boob-length and untouched by any product. Where Morello had bright red lips, Malikova's were chapped. The only similarity in looks was a use of eyeliner - but even there Morello's was subtle and Malikova's more of a statement. There was a feeble attempt to strike up conversation from the other new convict but for the most part, the journey was as bleak as the sky outside.

The van pulled up at the mouth of the main building, where inmates were watching new arrivals like vultures. With a habitual crack of her knuckles, Malikova (in her uniform which screamed 'NEW MEAT') followed the Italian-American to the double doors that lead to the next 5 years of her life.