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Yet, Heaven refused
to cry. Shedding tears over a man who really hadn’t given a fuck about her or her feelings wasn’t going to change her current situation. He was living his life, doing whatever it was he was doing, slinging drugs and dick.
And now. She had to live hers.
Behind barbed wire.
And the one thing she knew for certain was, she wasn’t going to do her time behind bars broke. She needed a plan. Money was what made the world go ’round, and she wanted her world to spin on lots of dollar signs.
Somehow, someway . . .
EIGHTEEN
Silhouettes . . .
“Excuse me,” came a voice. Heaven looked over at her opened cell, and looked into the tear-stained face of a brown-skinned girl with slanted brown eyes. She was a young, attractive (a little dusty-looking with a tore-up weave), curvy-hipped girl with a small waist, and breasts the size of ripe cantaloupes.
In her left hand she fisted what was remnants of long weave hair.
Heaven sighed. She wasn’t in the mood for niceties at the moment (couldn’t this bitch see she was in the middle of having a moment?), but the young woman appeared distressed, and Heaven didn’t have the heart to be rude. She didn’t recall ever seeing the girl on the tier, so she surmised she’d been moved from another housing unit.
Heaven sighed inwardly. “Yes?”
The girl sniffled, swiping tears from her face. “Do you have a tampon I can borrow? I don’t have any.”
Did this little crazy bitch just ask me if she could borrow a tampon from me? Heaven stared at her. The poor thing had to be special needs, she thought. Bless her heart.
Heaven finally softened her stare. “No, I don’t have any tampons you can borrow,” she said, walking over to her locker, “but I have a few I can give you. We don’t loan out tampons here, sweetie.” And what nasty bitch does?
In good conscience, Heaven couldn’t let her go without having sanitary napkins or something. Croydon Hill only gave women three to five pads a month, and two rolls of toilet paper apiece. After that, the inmate was on her own until the next month unless she had money to purchase her own hygiene products.
Heaven found the shit appalling, and inhumane. Some women didn’t even have on any underwear and they were expected to attach a pad on the inside of their jumpers when their cycles came.
The girl sniffled again. “Oh, okay. Thank you.”
Heaven opened her locker and pulled out an unopened box of tampons, then asked her how old she was.
“Nineteen,” she replied.
Heaven blinked again. Ohmygod, she’s just a baby.
“How long have you been incarcerated?”
“I got here last month,” she answered, her eyes rimming with more tears.
At that moment, Heaven suddenly remembered her own anxiety when she’d first arrived at Croydon Hill, and found herself feeling bad for the young girl. She wanted to ask her what she’d done to end up here, but knew that was a no-no. You never asked another inmate why they were incarcerated. So instead she handed her the box of tampons and asked, “So why are you upset?”
Her top lip trembled. “Because I’m fuckin’ pissed. I got jumped in visits.” She opened and closed her hands into tight fists. “I wanna kill them bitches,” she hissed.
What?
Heaven immediately zoomed in on the fresh handprint on the side of her face and the young girl’s black eye and busted lip. She assumed it had come from another inmate; some bullying-bitch trying to intimidate the new girl.
Heaven could see where she’d easily become prey. Fresh meat. Young and tender. No one had had Heaven’s back when she first arrived, but she didn’t want this seemingly frightened girl to become someone’s bunk bitch.
So she invited the young women into her cell, and allowed her to have a seat at the foot of her bunk. Heaven waited for the girl to sit, then sat on the other end, shifting her body and tucking a leg beneath her body as she faced the young woman. She made a face, smelling an odorous funk wafting from the young woman.
“Um, sweetie,” Heaven said, trying to be thoughtful. “On second thought, I’m going to need you to sit”—your funky ass, she thought—“over there.” She pointed toward the metal desk.
