"But I swear! I didn't do it! I didn't do it!" Amy kept on repeating those words while the police officer forcefully lowers her head to get her in the car. Taking a last glance at her mother, all she can see is disappointed. She didn't want any of this to happen. She just wanted to help a friend with something, something illegal to be specific, but when she backed out, it was too late. Her "friend" didn't warn her that the police was already on their way to arrest her. She was framed.
After the trial, she was sentenced to ilfe in prison. She didn't know what to do. She was now hated by her mother and her friends (if she had some), all thanks to her friend.
Amy was now in the Texas Jail, a correctional institution for women who have done the worst of crimes. She had two guards escorting her to her cell, she didn't make any eye contact to any of the convicts, she knew she'll regret it very badly. She saw documentaries about life in prison so she knows exacly what will happen if she makes a wrong move.
Arriving to her destination, she was shoved in the cell by the guard only to see an intimidatingly tiny brunette wearing an orange jumpsuit as same as hers. She noticed the girl has photos on her side of the wall and also the fact that they're both teenagers.
Amy's PoV
"What the hell's your problem?!" I was snapped back to reality by her loud voice, I must've been staring.
"S-Sorry. Won't happen again." I stutter as I head to my side of the cell but she quickly stands in front of me, blocking my way.
"You didn't answer my question, idiot. We're you judging me?!" she screamed at my face looking up at me. She was intimidating for a small person, but we're in a prison after all, right? Everyone's intimidating.
"N-No, I don't have a problem and I wasn't judging you. I swear!" I notice her expression soften. Glad that was over. I sighed but she barely noticed. She walked back to her bed and I'm really glad that was over.
"Good." She said as she laid down on her bed facing the wall with pictures. I'm starting to wonder what's in those photos.
I should clear the air since we're cellmates and I'm going to be here in a long time. I need to know if we can talk without killing each other, well, without her killing me.
I cleared my throat, "I'm Amy, by the way. Amy Raudenfeld. I was framed by someone so, here I am." I chuckle nervously not knowing what her response will be. Either she'll talk or choke me.
"Lauren. I'm Lauren Cooper. I'm not telling you why I'm here." She said without turning to face me. I didn't know what to do or say after that so I just nod even though she can't see me.
Then she smacked the wall with her hand and turned around with that literally killer look that made me jump from my bed. "Didn't you hear me?" she's freakin' bi-polar I'll tell you that.
"I did. I just don't know how to start a conversation with a con." I realize my wrong choice of words when she had a look that could kill. She was about to walk towards my bed when I raised my hands in defense.
"No! no, I mean I don't know how- where to begin with to start a conversation!" I was afraid of what she'll do to me. She still stepped closer to me until she's standing in front of me while I'm still sitting down on my bed. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! She's raising her hand to my face! Should I punch her? should I cry right now?!
"Ow!" she flicked her finger on my forehead. HARD. I rubbed it, trying to get rid of the pain.
"Be careful with your words, blondie. That's not what you'll get from those women. You're lucky you didn't let those words spill outside." She was looking down at me, with those piercing blue eyes that seems so easy to get lost into. It's like she's more than what I'm seeing right now.
"You're doing it again!" she flicked her finger on my hurt forehead again causing me to get out of my thoughts.
"I'm sorry!" I apologized to her as she went to her bed, her back facing me. "I'm sorry." I mutter in my breath. There's something about her that made me curious.
I should be going to school right now. Forcing myself to finish my homework but instead of doing those, here I am, laying down on an itchy bed, in a cell where the toilet's just in the corner.
Thinking of all these things, my emotions controlled me. I was sitting up in my bed punching the wall, ignoring the pain. I should never have agreed to you, I didn't even completely agree. Fuck all of this. I was punching the wall, smacking my hand against it until I felt hot tears rolling down my cheeks. I continued my assault to the wall by kicking it instead because I think my hands are now broken. When I kicked again, I fell down the bed crying miserably, so I put my hands to cover my face and hide the shame and guilt and anger. To hide everything.
"Karma… how could you."
This is just something I thought of when I couldn't think of anything else to write about. Send me your thoughts :)