I did not really intend to kill my boss; I still maintain it was self-defense. I would have gone crazy if I would have had to keep working for him. So I killed him instead. The jury, while mesmerized by the cute little blue-eyed blonde girl that sat in front of them, still convicted me and that’s how I landed in prison. The judge was lenient and I only got 7 years.
The first year went by rather quickly, I’m a sucker for a routine – so I adjusted quickly to prison life. I spent a lot of time working out and getting the body I always dreamed of having. I spent the rest of the time avoiding the rest of the women. I mean – have you seen what women in prison look like? I was definitely an anomaly with my long, tanned muscular legs, my flowing blonde hair and perfect skin. Sure – I got noticed and heckled a lot, but it was mainly harmless and I adapted to my solitude.
Then one day – everything changed. I’d been fortunate and the women’s penitentiary had plenty of space and most of us had cells to ourselves, but with the rise in crime across the nation, we were slowly losing that privilege. I was lying in bed one day, recovering from the 500 stomach crunches I’d just finished, when the guard stopped outside my cell door. I knew it wasn’t time for dinner yet and was concerned about why she was standing there.
She smiled and said, “Looks like it’s your turn,” as she turned her key in the lock. From around the corner another guard came walking in with what was easily the most beautiful woman I’d seen in my life. She was dressed in the typical prison drab gray jumpsuit and she had her hands handcuffed in front of her, but those did nothing but enhance the stunning woman in front of me. She had masses of chestnut curls that hung halfway down her back, when she looked up at me from under her incredibly long eyelashes I could see that her eyes were a dark shade of blue that I’d never seen before.
I immediately felt embarrassed by my cut-off prison sweatpants and the tiny white tank top I’d been exercising in. I had just pulled my long hair back into a loose ponytail and knew that I probably stank of sweat.
The guards wished us well and locked us in together. We hadn’t said a word yet, just stood there staring into each other’s eyes. Finally, I found my voice and told her that she could have the bottom bunk.
She thanked me and watched me move my things to make space for her. I felt like I should talk or something, but when I turned around I caught her staring at my ass. She immediately blushed and turned slightly away.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “It’s just that I had no idea women in prison were so beautiful.”
I laughed and assured her that most of them were not. That broke the ice and we started talking.
I spent the next few days showing her the ropes and she quickly fell into my routine. We worked out together, we ate together, we shared books and talked a lot. It was hard to remember what my prison life was like before she got there.
One night we had gone to bed and I heard her sniffing. I peered over the side of the bed and asked if she was ok.
“Could you come down and talk to me?” She asked.
I hopped down from my bunk and crawled under the covers with her. I was surprised that she was crying. Most girls get that out of their system by the third day.
“I miss my boyfriend!” She cried.
