He was lying on the bed in his cell, starring up at the picture on the ceiling above him. His whole cell was white, no pictures, no personal items, nothing. Just the bed, a dresser, toilet in the corner and a small mirror on the wall.

And the picture above him, a picture of the one woman who had taken away his control. As he starred at her he remembered back to his time in the women's Sealview Correctional Facility. He remembered how much he enjoyed working there. There he had control, there he was God. No one questioned his authority and if they did, they sure as hell knew the punishment.

As he was remembering all this he tried as hard as he could to push away the images of the numerous times he had worked in men's correctional facilities. The truth was as painful as the woman he now hated so much had put it - they dumped him because he didn't have the balls to handle men. His heart started beating, he was bursting in rage and in desperate need to gain back control.

When he was younger he had been the bully's favourite victim, their punching bag. He'd always been picked on, and there was no support from home. He lived alone with his mother after his father disappeared when he was a baby, leaving her bitter and taking her anger out on him. She got embarrassed and angry every time he came home with his torn clothes and bruised face and body.

"Stop acting like a baby, if you can't take care of yourself you are not going to get far in your lousy life,"

that was his mothers respond every time he came home crying over what the guys had done to him, and the phrase was usually followed by laughter. He had always been such a little man.

All this was why he decided to be a prison guard. He wanted the chance to hang around with the type of guys that used to bully him. He wanted to be the authority amongst those guys, to get back at them, to be the one to push them around. But even there he could not escape it; the inmates could smell the fear behind his thick mask of security and power. They could see his insecurity no matter how much he tried to hide it. Unfortunately, mind games didn't work on those men, pure violence did, and that was not an option that went well together with his physical strength.

So he started working with women, and there he felt right at home. He felt the power and authority he always craved. The women feared him and followed his every say so. He could do whatever he wanted with them, and sometimes give them drugs in exchange, to keep them from telling.

"Just like Disneyland", he thought to himself and giggled.

On lonely nights he could pick the hottest one amongst them and she had to go with him, she didn't have a choice. Oh well, she had a choice, go with him, or take what was coming for her.

Thinking about this made him loose the images from his time in men's facilities and back to his time in sealview. It was perfect - he gave the women what they needed, and they gave him what he wanted.
Until that bitch came and ruined everything. But today was the day; he could not wait to show her that his authority and power was the greatest and make her regret her actions. He could not wait to see her slowly loose control again. All these days, nights, hours he had spent just looking at her picture, planning his revenge, how to gain control over her again.

He could feel his blood rushing to his head, making him all warm inside, and very excited about what was to come. He let his fingers wander across his face, feeling the scar on his cheek as a constant reminder of how she had taken away his control, leaving him vulnerable, humiliating him in front of his fellow officers, disobeyed him. But he got her, he had her, and she knew that as well as him. She might have won the battle, but he was not going to let her win the war.

Then he heard the warden walk towards his cell.

He smiled, took one last look at the picture, reached out and gave it a huge wet kiss.

"Lets see who's the bitch now Miss Olivia"

The doors opened

"Lowell Harris, you are free to go"