45

Alison

The sound of my cellmate moving around our cell wakes me up. I really hate her. She is the loudest person ever. I sit up in my bed and glare down at my cellmate as she continues to move about. But before I can say anything, our cell door is open, and the guards yell, "Count," this means no matter what, I must get up. With a sigh, I climb down, step out of my cell, and stand in line. The guard moves down the line calling out our inmate numbers, stopping briefly in front of me.

"Inmate 728435,"

He looks up from his clipboard.

"Your lawyer is here to see you. After count, one of us will walk you down there."

I give him a confused look but nod my head. I have learned that it is easier to just agree with the guards than it is to try and argue. I don't have a lawyer, nor do I have anyone on my list to visit me. And saying as much will only piss him off because, well, frankly, he doesn't care.

After the count, I go back into my cell and quickly change out of the sweats I wear to b