Absolutely Bad

♤-Chapter:1-♤

Success is not final; failure is not fatal: It is the courage to continue that counts

Chapter 1: Jailbird

April 2016

In front of the cell door, a gruff voice speaks from behind me "Aksakor, come you have been released." It was one of the many guards in this sector. I do one last pull-up on the pipe above my bed, while whispering "200". I drop down on the ground, landing perfectly crouched as to not hurt my knees and dust off my shoulders.

"Venendo," I mumbled to the guard that was standing in front of the cell with his hand holding onto the gun in his bulletproof vest. Venendo meant 'Coming' in Italian which was one of the few languages I spoke. I knew the guard probably didn't understand, but who cares. I was finally getting out of here.

I turn around and walk out the open door past the guard who stood with squared shoulders acting all mean and tough. Rolling my shoulders to release the tension of the 200 pull-ups, I walk past the other prisoners that were all staring at me from the other side of their cells.

In each cell 2 women felonious where held. We were in the top secured area of the most secured prison. Ironic isn't it?

I reach the door that leads from the cells in the back of the prison to the front where I'll be collecting my things. Spinning around I gaze at the other prisoners. They were all women built like beasts or men, with tattoos all over their bodies with quite a few piercings here and there.

"Abbiate una bella vita." I smirked. You could say I was quite the troublemaker, never liking peace. Some of the prisoners grumbled and others just glared, try to intimidate me which would never work. It made them mad that I shouted at them that 'They should have a great life'.

Followed by about 10 guards I was walked to the front desk, where I gave my name to the African-American man behind the glass and computer desk.

I collected the stuff they took when they arrested me, which was my Samsung Focus with a dead battery from not being charged in five years; my black leather worn-out Distil Union Wally Bifold wallet with all my $100 notes missing and my clothes that I wore and which I will hopefully still fit in.

I walk to the ladies room that was on the left of the front desk and got dressed into my black skin-tight jeans, a black tank top that is longer in the back than in front, my black leather jacket and army boots.

The shirt was a bit too tight around my stomach muscles and I struggled to get the jean over my now bigger shaped thighs. What could I say? Being in prison was boring so I had to keep myself busy with exercising.

Lastly, I place my metal cross chain over my head that my mother gave me a few weeks before she was brutally murdered. I took the hairbrush they so generously gave me, I ran it through my long blood red hair.

The guards had followed me to the restrooms but I just stared at them when they tried to enter the room. I might be getting released today but that didn't mean anybody here trusted me. Where I should have done 10 years, I only did 5 because of money. After all, money turns the world.

I remember sitting in court a month ago where the judge glare at me before setting bail at 15 Million. Silva and a few of the mafia members were in the room and I remember Dallas' wife sobbing on the right side as Judge Joey said that if the bail is paid within the month they will release me.

Shaking my head to get rid of the memories I walked out of the bathroom. Michael was waiting outside the door. You could say he was my favorite guard. From the beginning, he knew I was a trouble maker and he would always grin if I got away with the trouble I caused.