Criminal Essense

Chapter 1: Hopes of fresh air

Chapter 1: Fresh Air

4 and a half years later (give or take)

New York State Penitentiary

She was staring at the ceiling of her prison cell again, not being able to sleep--she never could. Piper still didn’t know what she thought about it--being a juvenile and all. She had been the youngest person to ever enter the New York state penitentiary, at least the youngest female that is. No one had ever heard of a thirteen year old entering prison. Jail, they had probably gotten themselves into as early as the third grade, but not prison. They were always dying to know what she was in for, and her reply was the same every time: “I was accused for a crime that I did not commit.”

No one believed that of course, all except for Windy who came to visit her every so often. She hadn’t come in a while though, she had been given ten months to live last time she came, and that was forever ago. You can never tell how long you’ve been trapped down there unless you break into the information desk that is, which she had already done at least twice. She was surprised by how much she'd changed over the past few years, first she wouldn’t say a thing, next thing she knew, she was telling people to leave her alone or she's end up getting another life sentence pretty soon with one less annoying person sticking around to see it. She was seventeen then, and her blonde hair has turned real dark, probably because she hardly ever went outside. She was skinnier, if that was even possible, and she no longer had bruises running along her flesh everywhere. Somehow, she seemed older than seventeen, wiser no less. Unlike her cellmate, she couldn’t scratch another tally mark every time the morning bell rang. She could only groan and think: “Oh joy, another day.”

The particular day that was awaiting her was one she saw only once a month: interrogation. Piper didn’t exactly look forward to these days, but she had to admit, she enjoyed watching the same detective rattle his brain, annoyed over her very general answers. He wanted a confession. Didn’t believe that a kid like her should end up in a place like that. She'd tell the detective the same story every time, but he’d only get up and say, “I’ll come back when you feel like telling me the truth. After all, it only reduces your years in jail by six, maybe seven years? Your loss.” He would always come back the next month however, and get the same answers, maybe a couple of insults as well. She had never been one to have an attitude, but prison really does change a man. Or girl, in Piper’s case.

She couldn't help wishing for a clock in her bare cell. Her friend, Tyler, had a watch, it was digital and everything. He had arrived about two, two-and-a-half years after she had, it told the date, time, evenhad a stopwatch. Boys and girl’s weren't suppose to  mix, and they never did, but whenever Piper had gone out on the blacktop for what she liked to call their “recess”, there would be this fence splitting it in half--boys on one side of the fence, girls on the other. She would go over against the wall and sit on the bench for an hour, just to take in the smell of fresh air. She did that for years, until one day there was a new face--but this one wasn’t like any of the others, he was. . . . .young. Most people were in their forties, and thirties, and fifties, she had been the youngest person there, but then one day, she had looked over to the other side of the fence and there on a bench (not so different from the one she was sitting on) was a boy her age, perhaps a year or so older.

She was fifteen then, still scared and alone, but that day she had decided not to be, because there was someone else who felt the same as she had. He was on the other side of the blacktop, and Piper found herself walking towards the fence with curious eyes and adrenaline surging through her body. A few people stopped to watch, because she never moved, well, save for the one time when Ruiz thought it a good idea to try and make her (she’s still missing three teeth). She pressed up against the fence, staring at him, trying to figure him out. He just looked down at his feet, solemn and quiet.