"Better out than in." I point out cheerfully, receiving little more than a grunt of acknowledgement before Sara lunges forwards and empties her stomach again – if there is anything left in there to evict.
I am currently leaning against the wall with her pinned between my legs as she slumps against the toilet, where we have been for the past hour. She can't stand up without throwing up and I daren't move because every time I let go of her she falls over.
"What the hell was in that tripe?" She groans weakly.
"It takes some people time to get accustomed to the food." I agree, rubbing small circles on her back. She shifts slightly, so she is leaning more against my body. I'm sure it is less of a conscious move and more of a loss of ability to hold herself upright any longer, but I wrap my arms around her waist anyway to hold her there. "You'll get used to it."
"When?" She murmurs.
"Hey, you've already gotten past the worst part." I attempt to put a brighter spin on it. "If you can survive the first couple of days, you'll be fine."
"This is surviving?" She asks rhetorically, shifting again.
"Hey kid, I've seen people handle it worse than you have." At my soft chuckle, which surely reverberated through her delicate frame, she straightens up a little and runs a shaky hand through her hair.
"I'm sorry." She offers quietly. "I'm sorry you have to see this."
I laugh again, shaking my head.
"Oh honey, I've seen worse." I assure her. Although I must admit, I haven't seen anyone turn quite this shade of green in a long time. But I keep that to myself.
"Yeah, I bet." She concedes, twisting slightly in my grip so she is facing me. "Hey, can I ask you something?"
Before I answer, I move my legs to adjust to her new position; ensuring she is suitably supported before nodding for her to continue.
"What's the deal with Harper?"
The question takes me by surprise. She must pick up on my reluctance to answer because her glazed eyes become earnest and hopeful.
"I want to know." She practically pleads.
I release a breath, blowing a loose strand of hair aside.
"Alright, but this might not make your stomach any better." I warn.
"I can take it." She promises me, although the colour of her face suggests otherwise.
"Okay, well…" I trail off. Where to start? "Sara, everyone in here belongs to someone." I begin, trying to plan where I am going with this as I speak. "And once you're theirs, they can do anything they want with you."
"Why?" She asks, pulling a face. "Why treat each other like property when we're already treated like dirt by the State?"
"Because that's how this place works." I shrug simply. "It's the way it's always been. There are the Bulls – people who use others for their pleasure – and the bitches. Harper's a Bull."
"Well, that fits." She mutters, looking away.
"On your first night here, you're free game – you don't belong to anyone, therefore you're up for grabs. And whoever takes possession first gets to claim ownership of you."
Sara sends me a dark look and I can practically read the thoughts currently flashing through her mind.
"Who makes up these cockamamie rules?" She inquires incredulously.
"Doesn't matter. Rules are rules." I state, much to her blatant displeasure. "I got news for you Sara; you're my bitch. Which means I can do anything – or make you do anything I want."
She visibly swallows hard, glancing down at the floor between us.
"But," I continue, reaching out to lift her chin. "It also means that no one else can lay a hand on you."
"Seriously?" She asks, searching my face with suspicion.
"Sara, as long as you're mine no one else can touch you." I insist. "Unless I were to trade you, or sell you."
"Sell me?" She repeats, somewhat insulted. "For what?"
"Drugs, smokes. Anything else people can get their hands on." I shrug again. "But that's not something you need to worry about. I'm not giving you up to anyone."
"Gee, thanks." She retorts flippantly, and I can't help but crack a smile despite the weight of the conversation between us.
"You're welcome." I reply sweetly, before softening my voice. "Sara, I want you to know … I've never done that to anyone before. And the only reason I did it to you is because I couldn't stand to see you hurt like – well, you saw."
I drop my gaze, but I see her nod slowly. We fall silent for a few minutes, each considering where to go from here. Finally, she speaks; although what she says surprises me yet again.
"If everyone 'belongs' to someone, surely that means Harper is someone's property too?"
"Once upon a time, she was." I agree, absently doodling a pattern on her shoulder where I was supporting her. "But Harper's been here for a very long time. Whoever made her their personal sex slave is long gone now."
She cocks her head to the side, considering my words. I can practically see the question burning in her dark eyes and I hurriedly climb to my feet before she has chance to ask it.
It is apparent that she has lost everything she is going to, so I feel relatively safe in moving her now.
"Come on girl." I say, effectively ending the conversation. I wrap my arms around her middle from behind and lift her to her feet. She is surprisingly light and in her current state of weakness, she puts up little fight.
I march her to the bed and drop her unceremoniously onto it.
"Lie down, on your stomach." I encourage, helping to her roll over. She folds her arms beneath her head, burying her face in them.
I climb carefully on top of her, settling on the back of her legs. She instantly twists, trying helplessly to wriggle out from beneath me.
"It's okay." I promise, turning her back over. "Just lay still."
Flexing my hands, I place them gently onto her back and began massaging her pressure points.
"What are you doing?" She asked pitifully, unable to fight me off although clearly wanting to.
"Trust me, it'll help you to sleep." I reassure her. "Don't ask me about the science of it, but it relaxes the muscles and it should help with the stomach cramps."
Receiving no answer, I glance down and smile. She is already half-asleep, fighting a losing battle to keep her eyes open. Not that I can blame her; she hasn't slept in two days and she has been in immense pain for the majority of today.
I lean down, dropping a kiss onto her crown.
"It'll get easier soon, I promise." I mumble against her soft hair, before climbing carefully off her.
When I turn, my heart jumps to my throat. Lurking in the shadows outside our cell, grinning through the bars like a Cheshire cat, is the very object of our previous conversation.
"Aw, how touching." Harper sneers callously. She never breaks her gaze with mine as she wanders away, her crooked teeth still bared.
I scowl, waiting for her to disappear completely from my sight before draping the blanket over Sara and clambering onto my own bed, to the familiar sound of the Lockdown guards approaching.
X x x
Sara's POV
I am surprised to awake feeling fairly refreshed. Whatever Catherine did to my back, it has obviously had some effect because that was the first proper sleep I've had here.
She, on the other hand, looks like she has barely slept a wink.
"Hey." She groans, sliding off her bed.
"Hi." I greet quietly, barely tearing my gaze from the notebook in my lap. I presume it is her's, I found it under my bed; I just hope she doesn't mind me borrowing it.
She doesn't appear to, however, as she barely raised an eyebrow at it before sloping to the sink.
"You look like you're feeling better." She comments tiredly.
"I bit." I agree, not wanting to rub it in if she hasn't slept well. "You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm great." She lies, splashing cold water on her face in an attempt to make herself more alert. I continue what I am doing, barely paying her any attention as she shuffles around the small space for a few minutes.
"What are you doing anyway?" She inquires at last, leaning over my shoulder.
"Nothing." I murmur, shielding the notebook from her view. It is nothing personal; I've always been protective of my work.
In my peripheral vision I catch sight of her rolling her eyes, but she is obviously too tired to push the issue. Straightening up, she stretches until her back emits a sharp crack and then hauls herself back onto the top bunk. From my position below, I can hear her tossing and turning for a few minutes before she settles back down.
Since I have been up for a while already, I have been reviewing last night's conversation and there are several questions floating around in the front of my mind, but I realise that now probably isn't the best time to pose them.
No matter; there will be plenty of time to quiz Catherine some more.
After all, it's not like either of us have anyplace else to be.
X x x
Cath's POV
As curious as I am, it is too early for me to care.
Leaving her to whatever secret task she is doing, I climb back into bed and curl up beneath the blanket.
After a few minutes I hear the bars unlock, signalling the official arrival of morning. Not long after, I hear Sara leave.
I am just considering getting up to follow her when I become aware of footsteps entering my cell.
"You weren't gone long." I point out, sitting up slowly and stretching again.
At the dark laugh that follows, my whole body freezes.
"It looks like you need a few lessons in how to keep your bitch in line." Harper comments, sliding the bars shut behind her. "You don't even know where she is."
Turning to face her, I back myself against the wall and curl my legs up to my chest in an attempt to make myself as small as possible. However, my efforts are in vain as she is still tall enough to reach up and drag me off the bed.
I yelp as I hit the hard floor, landing in an untidy heap.
She crouches down, so her voice is inches from my ear and I can smell the stale smoke on her breath from her illicit cigarettes.
"Why don't we start with the basics?" She utters.
I try to shove her away and receive swift punishment for my actions. Her hand has collided with my cheek before I can even register the movement.
"Now, now Goldilocks." She tuts. "You know the rules."
As her hands begin to tug at my clothing, my words to Sara float back to the forefront of my mind.
Once you're theirs, they can do anything they want with you … that's how this place works…
Rules are rules, after all...