"Hey Kiddo, how you hanging up ?", she called from the phone. Her features looked grave from the glass between us.

"I’m not getting out of here am I ?", I stated miserably. Going straight to the point.

Kelly swallowed hard, "I’m so sorry Spencer. I tried everything to help. The only thing I could do was strike you a deal. The prison your going to is run by a friend of mines, your sentence is 25 years but I can get 15 years cut-back, and if your on your best behavior, you might only have to serve about 8 years only".

"I really don’t have a choice in the matter, but yeah I’ll take anything. Have you heard from my mom ?", I knew this was a sore spot but I had to know.

"She refuses to talk", kelly scowled at my mother negligence.

Ever since the murder, my mom refuses to talk to me. She doesn’t believe in what I say, she says that theres too much evidence for me to keep pleading innocent. My dad split way back when I was about three and lived in Ohio. I only can remember his black curly hair and reassuring smile.

"Everything will work out, I swear on my life I’m going to find a way for you to get out", Kelly promised but at that time I really didn’t believe it.

The next day I was sent to L.A’s Federal Prison aka the block. It wasn’t quite like I imagined it. It wasn’t small and full of moss sticking on the side of the building like the Alcatraz. It was huge, built with marble stone, very clean and brand new, they had 25 foot long electrical gates, and spiked fences around the perimeter. The guard escorting me had to use a key card to get pass the gates, and the gate watchers were all strapped ready for any kind of danger. As I walked through corridor with the guard with the name tag ‘Barry’, the women in the cells didn’t hoot or try to grab me as I walked by like in the movies, they all just looked at me with some sort of pity.

‘What the fuck’, I thought and narrowed my eyes.

The guard aka Barry, walked me into the opened cell. I noticed my cell mate wasn’t there. The top bunk, clearly my cell mates, was unorganized, the walls were covered with rock band posters, and there was a barely hidden mini guitar, almost like a ukulele under a pillow. The guard aka Barry noticed my curious look and answered my unquestioned question.

"Ashley, your cell mate has been in solitaire. She should be coming back tonight", he spoke nonchalantly.

By that, my interest peaked. I wanted to know what this ‘Ashley’ did. I voiced my curiosity.

"Why was she in solitaire?".

Barry gave me a wicked grin that made me reconsider asking that question. He smirked then replied.

"She beat up her last cell mate half to death", he stated as he walked out the cell and locked it. The color drained from my face, and he held a smug expression.

"Hope you have a nice stay here", barry chuckled at his own joke and retreated.

I wasn’t much for sailor talk but I couldn’t help the really loud ‘Fuck’ I groaned out as I sat on my bunk. I was locked in a cell with a psychopath for eight years.