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“I got you these,” Officer Corel says, handing me a pack of books.
I stare at them for a moment, and then take them from him, glancing down. Harry Potter. I’ve never read these books, but they’re big, and they’ll no doubt take me a while. I don’t know why he got them for me. Does he feel sorry for me?
It’s safe to say, things haven’t been going well for me in here.
Trisha didn’t like that I told on her, and so she’s made my life a living hell, tormenting me in every way she can. Officer Corel is with me most of the time when I’m out, so as yet, she hasn’t been able to get to me again, but she’s waiting. I know she’s waiting. He knows she’s waiting. She’s going to get her revenge on me, and I’m terrified for the moment when that will come.
Until such time, she does nothing but throw threats at me. She’s going to beat me until I choke on my own blood; she’s going to cut my hair off; she’s going to make me wish I was never born. I’m not sure how I’m ever going to get away from her. I can’t avoid her forever, and Officer Corel can’t be by my side every second of every day. I’m sure soon, he’ll be assigned somewhere else, and I’ll have a new, less sympathetic guard on duty.
“Are you allowed to give me these?” I ask him, taking the books from his hands.
“Yes, I am. They’re cleared; I’m not sneaking anything in for you. You’re allowed to read, and I thought you might like to read these.”
“Thank you,” I say, incredibly grateful. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re very welcome. Share them with Madeline; she seems like a nice girl.”
Madeline is a nice girl. Although rough around the edges, she’s a good roommate and she helps me when she can. She told me off when Trisha first got to me, and told me I shouldn’t have said anything. She thinks I should have said nothing happened and let it be. She’s probably right, but at the time, I thought not backing down was the best option. Madeline told me, in here, it is absolutely not.
Now, I have to learn how to fight, because the only way I’ll get Trisha to leave me alone is to be stronger than her.
I can’t possibly be stronger than her. She’s double my size and I have no idea how to fight.
Madeline is showing me a few things, but in all honesty, I think my time in here is going to be hard. A lot harder than I could have imagined.
“I’m going to a conference tomorrow for a week. I have assigned a good guard to you, and informed her of your problems with Trisha. You should be safe while I’m away.”
My heart sinks at his words.
I’ve not met another guard in here who actually cares about the girls in this ward. They only care about doing their job and going home; our well-being matters little to them. I trust Officer Corel, though. Maybe there is another guard I don’t know about. He wouldn’t leave me in danger, right?
“Oh,” I say softly. “Okay.”
“It’ll be fine, I promise. I’ve explained the situation. You’ll be taken care of.”
I nod, but I’m scared. I don’t tell him that. It’s not his job to make me feel better; it’s his job to guard the girls in this ward. He’s already doing more for me than anyone else, but I’m incredibly grateful to him, so I don’t say anything. He’s the only person outside of Madeline who I have on my side. I’ll take whatever I can get.
“Thank you,” I say, and then nod at the books. “These are great.”
“You’re welcome. When you’re done, I’ll bring you some more.”
I smile, weak and broken, but a smile all the same. He deserves to know how incredibly grateful I am to him. Without him, I honestly don’t think I’d survive at all in here. I didn’t know I needed him until I had him, and now, the very idea of him not being here terrifies me. Still, I keep it together. I owe him that, at the very least.
“I hope you enjoy your time away,” I say.
He smiles as he steps out of the room. “Work is work, even when you’re not here. Keep your head down, Callie. It’ll be okay.”
I hope he’s right.
Gosh, do I hope he’s right.
~*~*~*~
THE GUARD ISN’T TAKING care of me.
Jemma is her name, and she’s young and clearly putting on a hard front to scare the prisoners. She’s probably the same age as Officer Corel, around the late twenties mark. She’s pretty, in a sense, with her brown hair and blue eyes, but she puts on one hell of a show. She loves to make herself known, and loves to make sure we’re afraid of her.
I think the real truth is that she’s afraid of what’ll happen to her in here if she’s not hard. She’s only a smaller-built woman. It makes me wonder why she decided to pick a job like this. I guess she knew what she wanted and she went for it. Either way, she obviously told Officer Corel one thing and is planning on doing another.
She’s not being cruel to me, by any means. If anything, she is being friendly, but she’s made it known that she can’t be seen to be giving me special treatment. So she has to put me out with the rest of them. Today, that means I’m in the gardens, pulling weeds and tidying them up. Trisha is also out in the gardens, which means I’m there with her, and I don’t have protection.
I’m scared, because I know that three guards can only do so much to protect us when we’re out here, doing work. They only have so many eyes between them, and there are at least thirty of us, working in the garden and the yards today. They won’t have control of the situation if a fight breaks out. They’d get to it quickly, but not before some good damage could be done.
I’m avoiding Trisha at all costs, sticking close to Jemma and making sure when she moves away, I go and weed the garden by her side. The sun is burning hot, and my skin aches beneath its vicious rays. I’m wearing a hat, but it’s not doing much to protect me. Sweat trickles down my forehead as I work in the ground, pulling weeds and placing some fresh mulch down to protect the plants.
Jemma moves to my left to assist another girl, and I find myself unprotected in the garden. I keep my eye on her, but she’s busy assisting.
A hard voice fills my ears, and my skin prickles as I turn and see Trisha walking over. She gets down on her hands and knees, so it’s not obvious that she’s causing a problem. I look back over to Jemma, who is discussing something with another guard, then the two of them walk over to another girl, even farther away. She looks unwell, her face pale, and she’s hunched over panting.
“You didn’t think you could hide forever, did you?” Trisha hisses.
I turn back to her, and then drop my head and keep working.
“Ignoring me won’t make this go away. You got me in some serious trouble. My sentence is a few months longer now because of you and your filthy rich ass. You couldn’t possibly think I was going to let you get away with it.”
“Please,” I mutter. “Just leave me alone.”
“Your little guard boyfriend isn’t here watching over you this week; you’re open for the taking. I’ve got big plans for you, Callie.”
I look to her and snap, “Just leave me the hell alone!”
She grins and stands. For a moment, just a moment, I think she’s going to walk away.
Instead, she raises her foot and slams it down on my fingers. I try to jerk my hand away but she twists her boot, crushing them so hard into the dirt I can’t pull away. I cry out in agony as a crunching sound can be heard. She twists her boot, over and over, until I’m wailing for her to stop.
Then, she steps back and turns without another word and walks off.
Pain radiates through my hand as I lift it and stare down. My fingers are already swelling, and one of them is sitting at an odd angle. She broke it. She broke my finger. Vomit rises in my throat as pain shoots through my body.
“Callie, what happened?” Jemma’s voice cuts through the throbbing sound in my ears.
“I . . . I dropped a log on my fingers,” I tell her, thinking of the only thing I can. There are logs lining the garden bed, and they’re heavy. We have been straightening them up as we go. It isn’t a terrible lie. “I didn’t mean to. I fell forwards . . .”
“Are you sure that’s what happened?” she asks, helping me to my feet and glancing around.
“Yes, I’m sure,” I say, my voice shaking from the pain.
“Let’s get you to the nurse.”
She calls another guard over and has her take me out of the garden and inside, but not before I glance at Trisha. She watches me go, a low grin on her face. She knows she has me right where she wants me. She knows I’m not going to say anything. She knows it, and she’s going to keep doing this.
My chest clenches with both pain and anxiety. I don’t want to spend the next five years here. I don’t want to be tormented for the rest of my sentence.
Tears burst forth and roll down my cheeks. The guard helping me has absolutely no sympathy for me, and doesn’t even flinch at my sobs. Pain and heartache make an agonizing mix in my body.
I want to go home. I’d do anything, anything in the world right now to be at home.
I can’t do this.
I can’t survive here.
Please, make it stop.