AN/ Really short piece about what I think is going through Franky's mind between 501 and 502, not sure I'll add anything but I thought I'd leave it here.
Evidently, there are some major SPOILERS for the begining of season 5, hope you'll like it ;p
« Franky Doyle. You are under arrest for the murder of Michael Pennisi. »
The words were resonating in Franky's mind, everything unfolding very slowly, as if she wasn't there.
The two cops grabbed her arms and led her away, out of her workplace, in front of all of her colleagues.
Mickey was dead. The guy she went to prison for died, and they put his murder on her. The guy that had been stalking her for the last few days. Who had pictures of her and Bridget in 'their' home. The guy who had ruined her life, in a way.
Franky didn't want to go back to prison. She couldn't. She left all of that behind her when she left Wentworth. She was trying her best to be good. She had managed to get a hold on her anger issues, she had found a place where she felt like she belonged.
The cops took her to the precinct. They went through standard procedure and then she was put in a holding cell, waiting for the next departure for Wentworth. Considering her past, they didn't want to take any chances of her fleeing away.
Franky was completely numb. She didn't protest much aside from telling them her version of the facts, her side of the story. She waited in her cell, not quite seeing what was going on right in front of her.
The next morning, she was led in handcuffs into the back of a van, along with two other women. The one sitting next to her kept crying. "Ya'll be alright" She said, though she didn't really care, to be honest.
"What would you know ?" Franky kept herself from answering. Because I know this place she wanted to say, Because I used to run this prison and people on the inside still owe me a lot. Still she kept her mouth shut, and went back to staring blankly ahead of herself.
The moment she was dreading came. The doors of the van opened. She refused to cry, to even close her eyes. She wanted to avoid the looks of disappointment she knew were to come. But she kept her head high, though her face betrayed how she felt. She slowly got up from where she was sitting, exiting the van. Miss Miles was holding the door open, and she was indeed looking at Franky like she had let her done, like she was a failure.
But then, at the gates, there was Mr. Jackson. Disappointment was so clearly written on his face, she felt as if she had just received a punch to the gut. The last time she saw him was at Bea's funeral, back when she was still free, and away from this hell.