Within Horizon

She sat in her jail cell, uncertain what to do next and where she even was. She couldn't believe it. She had been arrested. Again. She had already called her mother. Bail would be $300 cash. Her mother arrived over an hour after receiving the call.

"I'm Mary Anderson. I'm here to get my daughter," explained Mrs. Anderson.

"Brittany Anderson?" asked the clerk.

"Yes," replied Mrs. Anderson.

"Bail is set at $300," informed the clerk.

Mrs. Anderson gave the clerk the money.

"She'll be right out," informed the clerk.

An officer escorted Brittany to the waiting area. The police gave her a blanket and she looked exhausted.

"Don't say anything, Brittany. We're going home," instructed Mrs. Anderson.

"But..." said Brittany.

"Let's get to the car," Mrs. Anderson said as she helped her daughter out to the building.

The drive home was quiet. Mrs. Anderson knew there was no point in asking her daughter any questions, considering the state she was in. When she pulled into their parking lot, a man in a black SVU was waiting in the driveway. It wasn't her husband, Brittany's father. It was a man wearing a suit, a man who Mrs. Anderson had called to come over.

"Mrs. Anderson?" asked the man.

"Yes," she said as she exited the car.

"Steven Mason, Attorney at Law," he said as he shook her hand.

"I know it's dark and cold, but I have to get my daughter into the house," she replied.

"Oh of course. Do you need any help?" asked Steven.

"No. I'll get her," she said before opening the door and helping her daughter out of the car.

She helped her daughter to the front door, opened it, and the three proceeded inside. She made a cup of coffee for Brittany, who had moderately recovered since leaving the police station.

"Thanks for coming her so late. The attorney we had for Brittany's previous troubles has retired, and when I called his office, they referred me to you," explained Mrs. Anderson.

"Oh that's quite alright. Lawyers have to make house calls at night just like doctors, and when you need one, you need one. What do you mean by 'previous troubles?'" asked the attorney.

"Brittany has been arrested twice for underage alcohol possession, and once for trespassing during an animal rights' protest. As you can probably tell I'm unfortunately not surprised this happened," explained Mrs. Anderson.

"I see. How old is Brittany?" asked Steven.

"19," replied her mother.

Brittany had been sitting on the couch drinking her coffee during all of this, understanding most of what she had heard. She knew she was in serious trouble this time. Steven walked up to her.

"Brittany? Hi, I'm Steven Mason. I'm an attorney your mother hired to help you through this," explained Steven.

"Ok," Brittany replied in a groggy voice.

"I just need to ask you a couple of questions. First, what happened tonight?"

"I was at Emily's house and we were watching a movie. I guess there isn't any point in hiding it - we were drinking. Give me the same old lecture and I'll give you the same old reasons why the laws are dumb," Brittany narrated as her mother listened on without any ability to be surprised or angered left.

"After everyone left I got bored and decided to come home. About halfway there I was driving down the road and the car was pulling a little to the right a couple of time. Then about thirty seconds later I saw everything turn red and blue, and there were police lights in the mirror. The cop came to the window, asked me a couple of things, and then wanted me to get out of the car. I made him show me his badge to make sure he wasn't a rapist or something. He had me walk down the road and shoved some remote control thing in my face and made me blow into it. Then he had me on the car, it was cold, and he was putting cuffs on me. Then the ride, sitting in jail, I called mom, sat in jail some more, came home, and now we're here," narrated Brittany.

"Ok, the court appearance is at 3 on Thursday. I'll get copies of the arrest report and get everything ready. Meet me at my office at 1 and we can get everything ready. Don't worry, everything is going to be alright," assured the lawyer.

After some more consoling and kissing Mrs. Anderson's butt to deserve his fat paycheck, Steven left.

"Everything is going to be alright? That cliché is all your high dollar lawyer can tell me? Especially when he knows it's bullshit?" asked Brittany.

"That high dollar lawyer may be the only thing keeping you out of jail. Maybe. You need to cooperate..." explained her mother.

"A Harvard law professor couldn't get me out of this one," groaned Brittany.

"If we were most families I'd be furious right now, but since I have so much experience with you drinking illegally and getting you out of it you should be listening to me as I try to help you. Now go get some rest. We'll get your car tomorrow," explained her mother.

Brittany went to sleep. On Tuesday afternoon, they met with the attorney and prepared for the Thursday appearance. Then Thursday arrived.

"Your appearance is this afternoon. Are you ready yet, Brittany?" asked her mother.

"Almost," Brittany said as she came down the stairs.

"What's this?" asked her mother.

"What?" asked Brittany.

"You're not going to court dressed like that," instructed her mother.

"What's wrong? I'm wearing a dress shirt and khakis," explained Brittany.

"You need to impress the judge and everyone else there. Go put on some makeup and wear a skirt and pantyhose. You need to be so dressed up they think you are one of the lawyers," instructed her mother.

Brittany complied, primarily because she was to have plenty of trouble in court that day and didn't need any at home, and then the two went to the Law Offices of Mason and Riker to meet with Steven and prepare for the hearing. They decided she should plead guilty because her blood alcohol was twice the legal limit.

"Miss Anderson, you have two previous incidents related to underage drinking in addition to an arrest for trespassing. Given your record and that you are not a first time criminal offender I have no choice but to sentence you to the maximum the law allows: 364 days in a women's correctional facility with the possibility of parole after three months," was the judge's sentence.

Brittany arrived at the Horizon Women's Minimum Security Correctional Facility. She had decided to wear the exact clothes she had on at the time of the arrest to processing at the prison. A white sweater, jeans, socks, and tennis shoes. She even wore the same bra and thong. Despite being advised otherwise, she insisted on the symbolic significance of being dressed exactly the way she had been that night.

After saying goodbye to her mother, who did the little she could to prevent this fate, and her father, a workaholic businessman who didn't even talk to her about the her latest arrest for over a week after it happened and left all of the legal worries to her mother, Brittany was escorted by the officers to the processing area.

Brittany stood in a line with twelve other women and kept her arms crossed. There was another young woman standing behind her. She was blond and had followed the prison's advice by showing up in jogging pants and a T-Shirt. The two were the ninth and tenth in the line. Most of the women looked older and scarier looking. Some had tattoos, a few covering their entire body. All of them except for Brittany were wearing cheap looking clothes. Since they were going to sit in storage for the entire term of the sentence, most of the women saw no point in wearing anything but the worst clothes they could find.

A guard came out the give instructions.

"Alright ladies, I will make this short and simple. Each of you will go individually into the processing room. You will comply with the technician's instructions fully. You will remove all of your clothes and surrender your possessions. You will be issued your prison uniform and then escorted to your cell. Depending on your offense, you may be wearing handcuffs and shackles on the way there. Alright, first in line, first to go in," instructed the guard.

Brittany waited her turn while all of the women before her went through processing. It seemed to average about ten minutes for each woman.

Then it was Brittany's turn. A guard opened the door and she walked in. The technician was waiting and there was a guard standing in the background, partially covered by a shadow.

"Hello. Stand there and strip to your underwear. Put all clothes in the large, blue bin," instructed the technician.

Her shoes and socks would be the first to be taken off. The technician inspected them for anything hidden and they went to the bin. Brittany removed her sweater and dropped it into the bin. For a brief moment her arms, stomach, and most of her back her glistening in the light. It was like being in a doctor's office but darker. She even found a moment to worry what would happen to her tan over the next several months.

Next, she unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans and slid them down her legs. She handed them to the technician, who then inspected them and placed them in the bin.

Now she was standing in the processing room wearing only a white bra, her shiny red thong with pink and white hearts, and her jewelry.

"Please remove your earrings," asked the technician.

Brittany removed her earrings on at a time, and placed them in a tray the technician held before her.

"Your navel piercing also cannot remain. I will remove it," informed the technician.

She reached into Brittany's belly button to remove the metal piercing. It was getting personal for Brittany, but this was just the beginning.

"Remove your underwear," ordered the technician after she placed the piercing in the tray.

Brittany froze. She thought she had hardened herself for this prison sentence, but could she handle being naked in front of this woman and the female guard in the shadows? She knew she would have to shower naked, and that this processing would happen, but she just couldn't have prepared herself for it.

"Miss Anderson, please remove your bra and panties. I still have other inmates to process after you

"Um, yeah, right away."

Brittany unhooked her bra and handed it to her. She could feel the crisp air on her breasts and noticed the technician staring at them. Not that there was anything unusual; just that they were very nice looking. Next were her Valentine's Day themed thong panties. She was now completely naked.

"Alright, stand perfectly still," instructed the technician, who then ran her fingers through Brittany's hair to check for contraband.

"Now lift your arms horizontally. No, yeah, like that," she said before checking Brittany's armpits, which did not take long as they were shaven.

"Now open your mouth and lift up your tongue," she said as she checked the oral cavity. Brittany knew she could never see a dentist again without thinking of this embarrassing search. "I'm now going to lift and squeeze each of your breasts to check for anything concealed," warned the technician.

Brittany was a little scared, but she lifted and squeezed each of them quickly and that was over with.

The technician had worn gloves ever since the beginning of the strip search. Now she was about to find out how important they really were.

"Now spread your legs. I'm going to check your vagina for prohibited items," informed the technician.

"What?" asked Brittany.

"Some inmates smuggle drugs into prisons in all sorts of body cavities. I need to check them all," informed the technician.

"But I, I've never done drugs or even touched them," Brittany said, scared of what was about to happen.

"Miss Anderson, please comply or I will have the guard force you into a chair for this search.

Brittany spread her legs, and looked at the ceiling as the technician stuck her finger into her vagina and moved it around in search of drugs.

"I was hoping nobody but the man of my dreams would ever have a body part in there," Brittany thought to herself.

"Now keep your legs spread. I'm going to check your rectum," warned the technician.

"Now this is just too much," thought Brittany.

"Ok, the examination is complete. Put these on. You get one new pair now and two more later," instructed the technician as she handed Brittany a bag with a white bra and white panties.

"What do we do about washing them?" asked Brittany.

"To prevent diseases from being spread, all inmates are only allowed three pairs at a time which must be washed separately by our staff," informed the technician.

Brittany slipped her new granny panties on and then her bra, which the guard helped strap on.

"Now get a uniform from the basket. Those are washed en masse," instructed the technician.

Brittany grabbed an orange shirt and orange pants from the basket and put them on.

"Here are your shoes and socks. You'll be receiving another two pairs of socks in the future, as well," she said.

Brittany put her socks on, and then her shoes.

"What's going to happen to all of my stuff?" asked Brittany.

"It will be held in a locker until your release. Now the guard will escort you to your cell. It looks like you're going to be on the third level, in the "good girls" section. There will be a new inmate orientation tonight if you have any further questions," answered the technician.

The guard took Brittany to her cell, which for the moment being was unoccupied. It was a simple room with white sheets on two beds and a stainless steel toilet and sink. She had hoped that the "good girls" section would be a little bit nicer, but at least it was clean. It had a solid steel door, not just bars like the prisons on television and in movies, and a security camera in the corner of the ceiling to watch everything.

She sat on her bed for about fifteen minutes and the door opened again. The guard brought her roommate -- the girl who was behind her in line.

"Hi, I'm Alicia," her new roommate introduced herself.

"I'm Brittany," she replied.

"I guess we're going to be here for a while, and I want to forget about processing, so what are you here for?" Alicia asked.

"I'd rather not say. All I care about is that I can get parole in three months," Brittany replied.

"Three months? I have to wait six. I'm here for shoplifting from the mall. There was this shirt I really wanted, and I didn't think a store that small would have cameras," Alicia explained.

"And now it's an orange jumpsuit. How long is your sentence?" Brittany asked.

"364 days," she answered.

"We must be in a misdemeanor wing. Usually small time offenders go to a county jail, or at least that's why my very expensive lawyer told me, but our's is full so the judge sent me here," Brittany explained.

"You never told me what you did. I told you what I did," Alicia reiterated.

"Underage DUI, and I had a couple of other drinking charges when I was in high school, plus I was at this animal rights protest my freshman year of college and the cops came and arrested me and a couple of friends," Brittany explained.

"Oh."

Despite having a tiring morning, the girls continued talking until six at night, when it was time for Brittany to attend her orientation to prison class. Most prisons would have several prisoners in a room, but this one preferred to do as much one on one as possible. Brittany was sitting at a table across from her instructor.

"There is no cafeteria. All meals are brought to your cell. There is a library on the second level. There is a gym on the first level. There is a shower room on each level. Showers are the only thing done in groups at this prison," explained the instructor.

"Great," thought Brittany.

"You may want to consider participating in the BIP program," advised the instructor.

"What's that?" asked Brittany.

"The bikini inmate program. It's an experimental program where female prisoners wear bikinis instead of jumpsuits," explained the instructor.

"Did I hear you right?" asked Brittany.

"Yes. Wearing a bikini is safer for our guards as it makes it much more difficult for inmates to hide weapons or drugs. It also makes escape attempts much more unlikely and reduces the weight of laundry to be done. It's a strictly voluntary program, but if you participate, it will look good at parole hearings," explained the instructor.

"So I'm supposed to walk around the prison in a bikini?" asked Brittany.

"Yes. You'll be able to wear a jumpsuit during visitations from those outside the prison. Otherwise, anywhere in the prison you go, you'll have to wear your bikini," explained the instructor.

"Can I think about it?" asked Brittany.

"Yes. You have your choice of solid black, white, blue, red, yellow, green, brown, pink or orange bikini. It isn't the mall," she said sarcastically.

"Let me know if you ever become interested," continued the instructor.

"Can I go to the library yet?" Brittany asked.

"Yes, but you'll only be able to check out one book at a time," she explained.

Brittany made a quick trip the library, checked out a magazine, and returned to her cell. She spent the rest of the evening talking to Alicia and reading, until finally she went to bed.

The next morning the guards released most of the prisoners from their cells for the morning shower. They were brought down to the area where there were two long benches. A few of the women were brought down in shackles.

It was the moment Brittany feared most. She had to remove her jumpsuit and underwear in front of the guards and other prisoners. The compulsory nudity of the intake had done a little to prepare her for this, but it would still be nerve racking. Alicia was also there, prepared to take a communal shower. They were the only new inmates in this group and the others had already begun disrobing. Just as Brittany started unbuttoning her top a couple more guards walked in. She glanced and then had to do a double take. She gently tapped Alicia so she would notice the unsettling sight.

One of the guards was a man. He must have been in his mid to late 20's.

Brittany and Alicia looked at each other. Were they really about to get naked with an unknown man present? They had seen male guards around the prison but neither guessed that any of them would be monitoring the showers! But what choice did they have?

"Alright ladies, get ready for the shower," one of the female guards ordered.

Nervously, Brittany unbuttoned her top and put her orange shirt on the bench. Alicia started by removing her orange pants. Brittany's pants were soon to follow, as was Alicia's shirt, and they were both in their white prison issued underwear. A few other inmates were already naked and walking towards the showers. It wasn't a pretty sight. One was so overweight it was difficult to make out what the tattoos on her flab were. Another was bruised, possibly from injuring herself. And this was the "good girls" section?

Brittany reached back and unhooked her bra, looking into Alicia's eyes as she tried to forget that behind her was a man at his dream job. Alicia copied, and they were both topless in seconds. Each then grabbed their panties and slid them down to the floor. Naked, they proceeded towards the shower and received soap and a washcloth from an attendant.

The showerheads were along a single wall, and all of the women lined up. Brittany got the last one down while Alicia was next to last. They stood facing the wall, waiting for the water to start. There was a wall behind where the guards lined up behind the prisoners. Each inmate had one guard responsible for monitoring them. The two new guards stood behind Alicia and Brittany. The man was to monitor Brittany, but Alicia knew that he also had a perfect view of her naked body.

Brittany was afraid to turn around. She knew the young man was examining her dairy aire, along with her back, legs, and any part of her breast which might be visible. She didn't even bother trying to cover her breasts with her arms like Alicia.