Inside the precinct, Kourtney felt like she was in hell!
After her horrible family had left, the wicked officers had dragged her through a series of dimly lit hallways, their grip unyielding as they pulled her toward an entirely different section of the station.
They exchanged knowing glances before they shoved her into a stark, rough room. Kourtney did not need a prophet to tell her that a certain someone had ordered them to do this.
This new space was a far cry from the sterile confines of the comfortable holding cell she’d just left. The walls were grimy, and the air was thick with the stench of waste and despair.
Kourtney felt her heart pounding in her chest as she stepped inside. Her heart sank even further when she realized something- she was not alone.
Hell!
The more she took in the scene, the more her eyes widened in fear. The women around her were a far cry from the polished, privileged circles she was used to.
They were spread out across the benches, their eyes narrowing as they took in her presence.
She instinctively took a step back, her breath hitching in her throat.
Most of them looked like men, with buzzed heads and tattoos snaking their way across their arms and necks.
Some looked like they could take down a man with one swift movement. Their bodies were adorned with scars that told stories of rebellion and rage.
She felt a chill run down her spine, a primal instinct urging her to flee.
But that was simply impossible……
The air was thick with the smell of sweat, a potent reminder that she was now part of a world she had never imagined entering.
She had heard stories about what happened to women in prison, but nothing could have prepared her for the chilling reality that awaited her.
“Look who we have here,” one of the women sneered, her voice dripping with mockery. “Pretty little princess, all dressed up for the ball, huh?”
The others cackled a harsh sound that echoed against the walls.
Kourtney was wearing a gorgeous pink, flowery dress that belonged to Lilian. No doubt she was dressed for an occasion for these people.
“Awww, did you come here to play dress-up?” another chimed in, her fingers adorned with hard metal rings that glinted menacingly under the flickering fluorescent lights.
“Look at her! So fresh and clean, like she’s never seen a hard day in her life,” the first woman’s voice was laced with venom. “Let’s show her what it really means to be in here.”
Kourtney’s heart raced as she tried to scramble away, but the women closed in on her, forming a tight circle. She was utterly outnumbered.
‘OH MY GOD! I’M FUCKED!’ she thought inwardly.
“Get over here, pretty girl!” A towering figure with a shaved head and inked arms beckoned her forward.
Kourtney hesitated, but the women around her moved in closer, encircling her like vultures. They pushed her to the ground in front of the tall woman who seemed to be their leader.
The cold, dirty floor bit into her palms, and she subconsciously dusted it off.
“Look at her! She’s so clean, she can’t even handle a little dirt!” another inmate mocked, grabbing a handful of grimy floor dust and throwing it at her.
Kourtney flinched as it hit her face, the rough particles scratching her skin. The laughter intensified, echoing off the walls as they reveled in her humiliation.
It was obvious they’d all been extremely bored for the longest time, and they appreciated the comic relief-Her!
“What’s wrong? Scared?” someone taunted, yanking on her hair and forcing her to look up. Kourtney clenched her jaw, trying to suppress the tears threatening to spill. She had always been the strong one- the one who held her head high in the face of adversity.
But this was different.
This was a nightmare come to life.
“Look at her! She’s shaking! Someone get her a blanket,” one of them taunted, grinning from ear to ear as if Kourtney’s fear was the most amusing thing she’d ever seen.
“Why don’t you tell us how you ended up in this lovely place?” another woman asked, stepping forward with a smirk. “Did daddy’s money run out? Or did you finally get tired of being the spoiled princess?”
Kourtney clenched her fists, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” she managed to say, though her voice trembled. “I’m not like you.”
At that, the women erupted into laughter again. “Not like us? Oh honey, you’re just like us now,” one of them said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Welcome to the real world, sweetheart.”
“I’m going to use her as my new little plaything,” the leader said matter-of-factly.
“Stop it. Don’t you dare touch me!” This time, Kourtney managed to take a shot back, her voice shaky but defiant.
“Aw, look at that! She thinks she can stand up to us!” another woman jeered, stepping forward to deliver a swift kick to her side.
Kourtney gasped, the pain radiating through her body, but she refused to cry out. They all relished in her suffering, their voices a chorus of ridicule.
“Get up, princess! You think you can just walk in here and be treated like a queen for not being like us?” The tall inmate loomed over her, a devilish grin stretching across her face.
Kourtney pushed herself up, her heart racing with a mix of fear and anger before she was pushed down again, the weight of her situation crashing over her like a tidal wave.
One of them pulled her up by her hair, her rough fingers digging into Kourtney’s scalp, and she gasped in pain.
They dragged her hair, pushed her hard against the floor, and hit her multiple times, all while the others watched in delight, their laughter echoing through the cell.
She felt their hatred, raw and palpable, as they robbed her of her sense of security, of her identity.