Born for Sin

1: Humble Beginnings

"Sinwell?" the tall, brunette woman called from the door of my cell. Her skin was pale but below her eyes were blue, as though she hadn't seen a decent sleep in weeks.

I huffed under my breath and dropped from the top bunk to the floor; my feet sounding loudly against the cold concrete that now stood beneath me.

"Hm?" I quipped as I folded my arms across my chest, standing taller than her in the hopes of feigning strength. She was a newer guard and I didn't care to see her attempt to overpower me like the rest of them tried. I stood over six feet tall, but I felt tiny in this place. You could be the strongest, tallest, toughest woman in the building; but, against the guards, you were powerless.

"Pack your shit. You're out on early release." She grunted before turning around and walking away from the entry to my room; leaving me in shock with my jaw hanging loose.

After standing frozen in place for a moment, attempting to confirm that what I'd heard was not a misunderstanding, I hastily chased the new guard out of my room.

"Hey!" I called as she turned her tired face towards me, looking at me as though I was the worlds biggest inconvenience. "Early release? I didn't apply for early release?" I muttered in shock.

"Overcrowding," she said, gesturing towards the other women that stood in their prison uniforms around us. "We've gotta get rid of some of you guys. You made the cut."

"But why? My crime was violent... why me?"

"I don't fucking know, Sinwell. Does my badge say warden? Or operations manager?" She growled.

"No," I sighed, being reminded of my place by the edge in her voice.

"Just pack your shit and be grateful that you're going home, inmate. Keep asking questions and they'll find someone else to take your place." Her dark plait trailed down her back as she walked away from me, slouching as she walked towards another woman's room to give her the good news.

But it wasn't good news. Not to me.

I turned back and walked into my little cell, my bunkee waiting impatiently to hear the gossip. "So, what is it?" her red lips parted, her black brows furrowing in curious anticipation.

"I'm going, Lol." I whispered, not making eye contact.

"When? Where?" She asked, spinning her body to follow mine as I pulled my letters from the desk drawer.

Where? I didn't know. I had nowhere.

"I don't know, Lol. I don't know." I whispered almost to myself as I pulled my possessions together. I didn't have much... a couple of books, some posters, some letters.

"You know what, Lol? You keep them." I turned to face her.

"Why the fuck would I want to keep your love letters? They don't mean shit to me." She complained.

"No, dumbass. You can keep the books and posters and shit. The letters are mine." I said as I placed them in the pocket of my bright orange track pants.

She laughed for a second before looking at me warmly. "They better not replace you with a fuckin' wanker." she said seriously in her rough, British accent.