T H I R T Y Epilogue
Paloma’s POV
It had only been a few months since my sentencing, and things were not going well for me.
That was putting it lightly. The women in this prison were some of the worst of the worst. Baby killers, abusers, some of them had murdered their parents or grandparents.
These women were brutal, and it was almost as if they were hell bent on making things hard for me.
Because things had been rough. So rough that I had spent more time in the medical ward than actually on the cell block serving time.
The women who were locked here, well, there were those who didn’t mess with me and who I tried to make friends with and surround myself with.
But, there were more who were in for life, or wouldn’t be up for parole until they were in their seventies and eighties, who didn’t give a shit.
Those were the ones I worried about. They were the ones who kept kicking my ass and landing me in the medical ward.
I was getting beaten up or sexually assaulted, and the threats that were being made against me weren’t being taken seriously by the guards.
After the last beating, I had somehow been placed in solitary confinement and had been here for the last month, hoping that I would be safe from those women.
It felt like someone had paid money for them to target me, specifically.
I was being escorted to the showers from the medical ward, where my dressings were just changed, to clean up before I was sent back to solitary.
I asked the guard on duty, Lisa, one of the nicer ones, if I could clean up first. She promised to take me, so I could at least wash my hair and give myself a sponge bath of sorts.
When we walked in, I saw it was just me in the showers.
I couldn’t believe my luck. Usually, it was dangerous to be in the showers with others who hated you. You could get jumped or worse.
Killed.
I was finishing washing my hair with the trash shampoo the jail provided.
No scent, no body to it, no volume. It just kept you clean.
I was enjoying the water rushing over my head, feeling like all my thoughts were washing away, and I could be normal for just a moment.
Not the woman who tried to kill her fiancé's ex-wife. I was about to turn the water off when I felt it, the searing, burning, sharp pain in my left side. Then it was on my right side, and I couldn’t breathe.
It felt like my lungs couldn’t take a full breath in, and I was getting lightheaded quickly.
The pain was overwhelming, and I tried to scream, but nothing came out. No sounds. Not even a squeak.
Just air.
Over and over again, I was being stabbed, shanked in the shower. Such a cliché way to go. I looked to see who was standing, watching the brutal take down, like I knew they would be. The one person who I knew would benefit the most from my death.
Betty.
I’d done something that pissed her off last month, before being sent to solitary confinement. When I was being taken to the medical ward, she’d made a promise to come for me. It seems she was finally making good on it. I was done for.
Betty and her minions were here and gone before I could even attempt to process what hit me. Only that it was Betty and her minions. I lay on the floor, bleeding and unable to call for help, while the water washed away all the blood and evidence of who did this.
This was the end. I knew I was dying. Alone in this shitty, dingy shower. All I wanted was another chance. Another chance to escape and live my life far away from here.
I just wanted another chance. I wanted to live.