Fearless

00:01

"Belle, get the fuck outta here. They know you're here. They're coming for you."

I should have listened to the warnings. Maybe I wouldn't have ended up here if I did. Maybe I would be out there, dominating America some more. But no. My stubborn ass stayed put, determined to finish my task.

Obviously, I did. Jenson was dead. However, it was too late. I had taken too long, the cops showed up and ruined everything. I remember searching around frantically for anything to help me from the cops that had me circled. But I was the only criminal here. My family had left.

Of course, I didn't go down without a fight. I took out two cops, breaking their arms with my bare hands. They just sent more over. Two cops holding down each limb. I gave up struggling. Reserved my energy. It was my fault, I should have left when I was told.

Zip ties were attached to my wrists, the plastic securing my fate, for now at least. I didn't struggle too much, only when a cop held on to me too tightly. I went with them to the van and I was locked into the back.

They took me straight to a high security prison. Ely State Prison in Las Vegas. I was thrown in a cell for the night. That was one of the worst nights of my life. I was so angry at myself. For the next couple of weeks, my case was sorted. My lawyer was good, managed to get my sentence down from life. She played the, 'it isn't her fault, it was how she was brought up' card. I'm not complaining though, it brought my sentence down.

Anyway, after court, they moved me to a cell with three guards stood outside constantly. The first few weeks were really hard. I was constantly in fights, other inmates would try to challenge me. They would nearly always end up with a broken bone.

So, that brings me up to now. 28th May. Been here for 2 months and 14 days. I don't know how I'm going to keep my sanity here. I'm on my own in a cell, every time I was put with another inmate, it would not end up well for them. But I was lonely. I was given a psychologist, not that she helped. She didn't know how she could help me. By this point, I was beyond help.

Everything was dull and boring. Everyday was identical to the previous and I was never left unwatched.

But everything changed on that day. 28th May. The day he was brought here.

My day started like any other. I was brought food, taken to the showers, brought back to my cell. I was sat on the bed, watching everything that was happening in the small corridor separating opposite cells.

I heard a struggle coming from the east side of the corridor. My eyes opened slightly wider and I stood up. Walking towards the bars of my cell, the struggling and shouting was getting closer. More guards were coming to help. He was dragged passed my cell.

I couldn't believe it. He was supposed to be dead. After all, it was my bullet that pierced through his chest.

Jason McCann, in the flesh and blood. He gave me a sickening smile, before finally breaking free of the guards. He broke off into a jog coming towards me. He stopped outside of my cell.

His previously golden brown eyes turned so dark they could have been black. His light brown hair was up in a quiff. I almost didn't recognise him. I last saw him when he was 16. Now, he was 20, a year older than me.

A guard finally came over and took ahold on him and injected an amber liquid into his neck, sedating him. Before he was completely knocked out, he hissed four words out to me,

"Watch your back, Stryker." Then, he was out cold.