It came to pass that when I was 18 years old, I was busted for possession of drugs and sent away to the local juvenile facilities for a term of 3-8 months, depending on good behavior. There would be periodical court appearances to determine whether or not I was completing their supervised Drug Rehab meetings.
In Juvy, as we called it then, there were 10 cells which housed 2 girls to a room. In the room were 2 beds and a barred window, a heavy steel enforced door and an intercom on the right side of the door.
When you were brought in from the intake unit, you passed through what appeared to be a volleyball court that also led into a commons room where some girls were laying down watching TV. As I passed through there, I suddenly became aware that some of the girls were laying with their arms and legs overlapping. One of them remarked to me as I walked by, "Hey sister, welcome to our house"
I smiled at her and felt myself blush. The juvenile advocate ushered me from there to an office where stood 2 womyn. One was approximately 30ish and the other seemed older than dirt. The younger womyn told me to remove my clothing as she moved me into the office. At first I was reluctant to take my clothes off, but than the older womyn put her hands on my shoulders and said that it would probably be wiser for me if I did as the other had suggested.
I must have been stoned out of my head. I don't remember much of what happened after that, but the very next day laying in my Cell, my roommate Debbie told me that I put up quite a fight. This incident put me in good light with the incarcerated girls - however, I could only imagine what the counselors were thinking of me.
I made friends quickly. They liked my sharp wit and sarcastic demeanor. The counselors on the other hand, didn't care much for my wit and often sent me to solitary to let me know.
I saw my mother and lawyer when they would come to visit every other Thursday and on tuesdays, I would see my probation officer. She was a nervous type and I think I made her even more nervous. She used to belch a lot whenever she was in my presence. It was disgusting. I always thought she was in the wrong profession. Visiting with these people always meant walking through intake again. I loved seeing my mom and tolerated the lawyer. I didn't mind the visits from my nervous P.O., because it took me out of the major lock up.
If you were lucky enough, you sometimes got K.P duty, which was helping out in the kitchen before and after the meals. Sometimes I got lucky. One afternoon when coming back from K.P through intake, I saw a girl sitting in a wool coat. Her head was down as she looked at her feet. She had long brown hair and was short in stature. As I walked by her, I said hello. She looked up at me and I saw the most beautiful person I had ever seen before in my life. She smiled and said hello back to me.
A Sheriff in the unit told me 'no talking' and I smiled as I went through the doors that led to the Senior Girls Unit. That night I dreamt of her. It wasn't a sexual dream. It was where I was taking her away from this place. I was hiding her and fleeing. I was going to protect her.