Chapter 2

Taylor gazed around the court yard. She crossed her arms over her chest. She felt insecure and terrified and she had yet to step foot on the grass. She was of a handful of women sent to Walker Rehabilitation Camp, as it came to be known. That day was her eighteenth birthday and she found it more threatening than the reformatory she had first been sent to just three months before. True there were less dangerous women that would tear her from her bed in the middle of the night and beat her just because they did not like the way she looked, the way she wore her hair, or because they were just plain mean. Now there was a new threat. A threat that she saw when she gazed upon any man and the reason she had found herself incarcerated.

"Taylor," Chyna, the warden of her reformatory called her name. Chyna was a powerful woman. She had arms bigger than most of her men colleagues. She was tough and tolerated no nonsense. "In here." The lady with the tight black pony tail led her into a two bedroom apartment that was fitted with barred windows and cell doors. She would share it with three other women, whom she would meet after their shift at the next door mill. "It will be fine." Chyna smiled her encouragement. Taylor had often been called the Warden's pet because Chyna was softer toward the brunette than the other women who she reined over with an unbridled fury. Yet, she was nice to Taylor and protected her as much as she possibly could. "I will be by to check on you from time to time."

"I don't know if I can do this. All those men."

"There are many officers standing around, Taylor. If you don't feel comfortable just come straight to your room after you get off work. If you have to cross the yard to go to the store, just keep your head down. You're so short they probably won't notice you."

Taylor laughed.

"You've been a good friend. I'm going to miss you." Taylor gave the warden a hug.

"Come on now. It's not forever. I'll be here every Friday. Mandatory. Can't get out of it."

"Bye." Taylor watched as she left, closing the wooden door behind her. She looked around the apartment with its faded blue and white flowered wallpaper. There was a sofa, but it had springs showing and holes in the arms that looked like cigarette burns. But for the most part the place was clean, which meant at least one of her roommates was responsible.

The door opened an hour later and she turned to get a look at the women she would spend her time with for the next three years.

"Well, what do we have here?" A tall, skinny blond put her hand on hip and looked Taylor up and down. Sizing her up. Just as the women at the reformatory had done when she had arrived. Taylor recognized her as Sheila, the girl who had belonged to a gang and had been sentenced for armed robbery. Taylor took a step back. Sheila had never bothered her but had a reputation for being unpredictable.

"Great, all we need is another room mate. This place is crowded enough as it is." Felicity, the heavy set girl who had gone down with Sheila spoke. "What's your name?"

"Taylor." She spoke softly. Chyna had told her to speak and act like she was tougher than she was and use it as a defense mechanism, but Taylor's fear something she had never learned to hide.

"Taylor?" Bridget, an old cell mate of Taylor's walked in. She was a red head who had severely stabbed and cut a girl during a fight in middle school and had been in the home longer than anyone Taylor had met so far. "Leave her alone. She's alright." Bridget demanded.

"And why should we?"

"I guess you don't know who she is? Don't let that innocent act fool you. That girl is in here for murder."

"Ya right."

"Fine don't believe me. But when she offs you in the middle of the night like she did that executive don't blame me."

"Whatever." But the women left her alone.

"I guess this means I don't have a bedroom to myself anymore." Bridget sat down on the good side of the sofa. "Just don't get in my way when I'm working and I will do the same for you."

"Working? I thought we had time to ourselves after the mill shifts."

"We do. But you'll soon find out that what little bit they call a paycheck isn't enough. Luckily, the men here have problems that we have no problem taking care of."

"You sleep with them?"

"It's an extra ten each in my pocket."

"What about the guards?"

"Those guys don't care what goes on around here. Other than those fences and that door, there is no security here. It's like living in burrows all over again. You got to do what you have to do to survive."

"I see." Taylor knew she could never do the things these girls did. She wondered how understanding the men would be. Would they laugh and move on or would they become violent. In her time she had found that men were more violent and unpredictable than any other being on Earth.

"I'm going to the store, you want to walk."

"Okay." Taylor had only ten dollars that was placed on her card for her. She looked forward to what little bit she would make at the factory, since she did not have family who brought her money as many of the other girls. Once in a while her best friend, Ava would bring her twenty or whatever she could spare, but it was hard for Ava when she had a child at the age of fifteen and had to care for her with no help. Taylor had only a few items with her. An extra jumpsuit, a blanket and an extra pair of panties and a bra. Other than that she had nothing to her name and she was curious about the store and the things she would find in it. She wondered if the community would be close to living on the outside.

Stepping into the court yard, she regretted her decision. The men out numbered the women four to one and their eyes scanned her up and down as if she was wearing nothing at all. She froze. How was she going to survive this place?


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