Silence Inside.
Buffy Anne Summers, convicted of murder and committed to serve a life sentence in a high security women's prison. Can she cope with life behind bars. Can anyone save a girl that doesn't want to save herself.
Prologue
"Will the defendant please rise."
She didn't hear the words exactly, everything had started to blur into the background.
The endless questioning over the past few weeks had left the young woman in the dock emotionally battered. Towards the end of her cross examination, she had struggled to even form a coherent sentence, the prosecution had taken full advantage of her state, causing her to contradict herself at every turn, making their job that much easier. She didn't care though, she was guilty.
The blonde woman stood, flanked by two police officers. Her California tan was long gone, bleached by the cold English weather. Her skin was dry and her hair needed serious attention, long dark roots had begun to show through. Her nails were bitten down to the stumps, the product of endless hours cooped up in a cell. Alone. She was a shadow of the woman that had arrived at Heathrow airport, nearly a year ago to the day, but then six months on remand in a high security women's prison tends to do that to a girl. There are no beauty parlours in Holloway, and in any case, she didn't want to be beautiful, she wanted to disappear into herself.
"Has the jury reached its verdict?" The judge asked solemnly.
The foreman of the jury approached the bench and handed over a small slip of paper. So tiny, yet so significant. She wondered why it was always the small pieces of paper that shaped people's lives, the winning lottery ticket, the pay cheque, the verdict slip. She often found her mind wandering like this these days, slipping in and out of the real world. She preferred to think about small insignificant things, things that didn't matter, it kept her from thinking about home, her family, her friends, that night. She shook her head desperate to remove the images forming there.
The judge opened the slip of paper and read it before nodding, and handing it back to the foreman of the jury.
"How do you find the defendant?"
"We find the defendant, Buffy Anne Summers, guilty."
She didn't speak, she didn't cry, she bowed her head as she was led out of the courtroom, back to the cell that was her home. For how long she didn't know, she would have to wait for the sentencing hearing for that.
In the background, she could hear the violent sobs of her mother as she screamed and protested her daughters innocence, drowned out only by the victorious cries of her victims family.
She was rushed through the lower levels of The Old Bailey, the parts you only see if you are guilty, oblivious to the hushed whispers as she was whisked past. She stepped up into the waiting prison van, handcuffed to the accompanying prison guards. They had been friendly enough she thought to herself, they even offered silent signs of support for the girl, that was widely considered to be innocent. She didn't expect the guards on her new wing to be quite so gentle with her, but then she didn't expect their support or their pity. She was a murderer. She was guilty.
A/N----Many thanks to Mercy for agreeing to take on another of my projects :o)