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"INMATE, GET DOWN ON THE GROUND NOW!"
The guard had caught notice of the girls. More importantly, he caught notice of Angie.
"Angie, stop! STOP!" Marisol shouted.
A good amount of inmates had already woken up due to Thompson's screaming. They watched, horrified at the scene unfolding in front of them. Blood was everywhere. There was so much of it on Marisol, they thought she had gotten stabbed too. But Angie; she hadn't stopped. She hadn't heard a single voice call out to her.
"SHE'S DEAD, JUST STOP!" Marisol yelled out to her friend. Her voice becoming strained.
Thompson had stopped screaming in pain long ago. The only reason Angie kept stabbing her was because she was still up. When she finally fell onto her side is when Angie stopped. Her eyes open and glazed over, staring right at Marisol.
Angie's arm had gone limp with the shank still in hand. She was just now beginning to process what she had done. And she was horrified. She could only stare at Thompson's lifeless body.
Marisol sat up in her blood soaked clothing and grabbed the shank out of Angie's hand. She threw it down the aisle of bunks and it slid to a stop far away from them.
"Angie," Marisol looked directly into her eyes. "You need to listen to the guards."
"W—What?" Angie was still lost despite looking over the situation.
"The guards," Marisol pointed at the three guards in formation. Two of them had just arrived from other areas of the prison. Each one of them with their guns facing the two girls.
Marisol proceeded to get on the ground with her hands placed above her head. Her hands were shaky. Seeing a gun again and pointed at her made her uneasy.
She looked up at Angie. Blood was still dripping down her fingers. Marisol's eyes begged Angie to do the same as her. If not, she already knew what would happen. She winced at the thought of a gunshot wound. Even more so at the idea that someone would kill her best friend.
Angie slowly laid on the ground. Her hands not going above her head, but behind her back. One of the guards put their gun away and walked to Angie. Without a single change in expression, Angie was handcuffed.
"She's injured." Angie stated, speaking of Marisol.
"Where?" Another guard asked.
"My thigh." Marisol answered.
The guard put his gun in his holster and went to Marisol. "I'll get someone from medical to take care of her. I'll phone the warden while I'm out there too." He said to the remaining guard.
...
The girls had been separated. Angie was still reeling from confusion. Marisol was still in shock at what happened and what she had seen.
