Sentenced Soulmates (Flaritza)

Setting foot in Litchfield

Okay.

Don't freak out.

These people seem nice, right?

No one's giving me any threatening looks and I've only seen a couple of girls with face tattoos (though it's unnerving to think about what they could possibly mean).

As I walk down the sterile, yet dirty corridors of Litchfield penitentiary, seizing up unfamiliar faces and avoiding ones that scream danger, I'm reluctantly reminded of what actions brought me to where I am now.

I stole a car.

Well, I was never meant to keep it, some Mafia guy would sell it on to the black market. But I never ended up bringing it to him on time.
At least I can brag that I manipulated some rich guy into letting me ride Gran Cabrio with 485 foot-pounds of torque - I doubt anyone in here will ever even get to touch a car so beautiful.

A small Italian girl called Morello (who seems a little loca) leads us down a smaller corridor and into a room furnished with three bunk beds and a couple of draws. Down to the bare essentials for prisoners. It's gonna be hard to get used to this.

"Alright, Warren." The jumpy girls eyes snaps to look at Morello like she'd done something wrong. She doesn't seem right in the head and by the looks of everyone in the room, I'm not the only one thinking it. "You're sharing with Miss Rosa."

I watch as a nervous, wide-eyed girl, looking significantly more terrified than the rest of us, walks over to her bunk bed with a not so bothered, bold lady watching her.

"Nichols, you're in the empty bunks. Pick whichever one you like."

I see Morello slip the girl a bunch of extras like a toothbrush and toiletries that I'm sure is only exclusively for white people. I guess things in here play out just like on the outside then.

"Thanks hot stuff, appreciate it." The frizzy haired girl adds a wink for emphasis.

"No problem, and call me Lorna. Ramos, you're with DeMarco." My eyes wander to the middle aged woman who greets me with kind eyes and a smile. She seems nice. "Enjoy your time here in Litchfield ladies."

Morello leaves us three new inmates with the first two prisoners we'll properly get to meet. 
I begin unpacking the very few necessities I brought with me on my top bunk, not knowing how or if these people want to have any kind of conversation with me. They're probably sick of seeing so many new faces come in and out of their room.

"We don't bite you know." 

I look down at the older woman who still holds a warm smile.

"Sorry, hi." I reach out to shake her hand. "DeMarco, right?"

"Yeah, Anita DeMarco, nice to meet you Ramos." 

Hearing people call me by my last name sounds so weird. I don't think I'm ever gonna get used to it.

"You can call me Maritza. I mean, only if we're aloud. I don't wanna break no rules on the first day." I add with a nervous laugh.

With a smile telling me it's okay, DeMarco nods her head. 

The frizzy haired girl without a bunk mate, Nichols, breaks the silence me and DeMarco were filling. "So uhh, when do we get food around here? Are there bells or do the guards come and get us?"

"We usually know where and when to be somewhere. No one ever skips out on meals so it's safe to say you'll know when it's time to eat."

"And the food? Is it alright?"

"We have good and bad days depending on how much of Caputo's budget it spent on the food supply. Though we have a head chef, Red." DeMarco leans off her bed slightly, inching herself closer to Nichols so she can whisper. "You don't want to get on the wrong side of her. Don't complain about anything unless you want to get a bloody tampon or something worse in your sandwich."