Chapter 15:
After a week spent in the hospital recovering from her injuries, Abbey was returned to her now empty cell.
Rhonda had been moved to another location and had been charged with attempted murder. But Abbey doubted that anything would come of it. It hadn't taken her long to figure out some of the norms in prison.
As far as she knew, there were no plans to put anybody in her cell. According to Pat, the news of her attack had put pressure on the prison to keep her out of harm's way. So Abbey faced solitary confinement.
But was solitary confinement best?
At first, Abbey thought so.
But as the days wore on, she realized that she thrived on human companionship. On human contact. Even the worst kind.
She tried to be friendly to the inmates in the kitchen, but soon realized that was not the best approach. The monthly contact with Liz was the only thing keeping her sane and the frequent letters from Millie and Zoey. Otherwise, she had very little interaction with other human beings.
Every night, she was usually so tired that she went right to bed and slept until the next morning.
This routine continued for several months until one particular night.
Abbey was being escorted back to her cell when the new male guard took a different route. She half-way noticed, but didn't worry about it until the guard pushed open a stairway door and pushed her inside.
The door clanged shut. Since this was an exit only stairway, the door to each level locked behind whoever was exiting. And only the guards had the key to open it.
Abbey abruptly woke from her usual post-work stupor.
"What's going on?" She frantically looked about for some help but there was none, so she turned to face her guard.
"I want you, Ms. First Lady. I've been waiting for over nine months to be assigned to you and now I can have you." He moved to restrain her arms and place his lips on hers.
Abbey struggled against his actions. "NO!"
She twisted, trying to get away from his advances.
He continued to restrain her arms and tried to pin her body against the wall of the stairway.
She twisted against his motions, not comprehending exactly where she was. Her only thought was to escape his advances.
In one motion, she twisted free and tumbled head first down the flight of stairs in front of her.
She landed at the bottom of the stairs, her limbs twisted in unusual positions.
Blood seeped from the back of her head and pooled on the concrete floor.
No movement was detected.
The guard, figuring she was dead, ran.
Abbey lay alone, unconscious and bleeding.
