Out of Sight, Out of Mind

TWO

"Once you're in handcuffs, you know you have no control left over your life."

-:-

Dreams are elusive. Figments of reality. Advices among dusted doors and darkened corridors. When Addison Montgomery dreams these days ... it's always a prelude of horrors to come and desires trapped among the chains of her own mind. And it's not a whole lot different when she wakes up in the morning.

Dreams always managed to fly away when she was in Derek Shepherd's presence. (Her visitor list is still pending for approval, so it has been almost a month since she has seen him. That's three weekends where she stayed mostly in her cell, listening to and taking the guards' taunts because she can't, doesn't want to go outside to see people happy and smiling after coming back from seeing their loved ones without being jealous that she has not seen hers since her sentencing.) Be it as it may, the warm feelings of safety she was able to feel made her mind calm, carefully blank. Made her limbs grow relaxed, and her breaths to even out among the soft tell tale of Derek's warmth.

But there were times, sometimes, when Derek, her personal dream catcher, failed to trap her nightmares in his web and they would warm their way in. Often in the form of symbolisms whose meanings were too complex and convoluted for her to properly understand. Other times in the form of cruel, horrible, despicable visions that only managed to make her scream.

These days, she doesn't remember what she dreams when she wakes up, or more accurately, when she's being violently shaken by Torres to wake the fuck up ("It's like you wanna end up in psych.") — just how it made her feel and that feeling is a constant from the moment she got here.

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It was a Thursday when she was transferred to prison. She only stayed in county jail for most of five days before they transported her to a proper prison that was unbeknownst to her or her family. All she knew was that she would be going somewhere within the state and that could be as far as Canada.

And there wasn't really much to do in county jail but to sit around and await sentencing but since she had already been sentenced, you know, she waited to be shipped away.

She actually didn't think it'd be so soon. But she was thankful to leave because the whole five days that she was there, she was cooped within the open bay dorm with no yard time whatsoever — indoors or outdoors. She literally couldn't do anything because it'd be a waste to let her join a class or two since she would be leaving soon, regardless. That was what they told her.

Most people would fool around because what you do in jail don't necessarily affect your sentencing and prison time, unless it's something illegal, then, of course, it does. She tried her best to distance herself from those people who acted like children, some were actual children, minors, but it was hard when, for some reason, they didn't like her face.

She gets a lot of that here in prison, too, for some odd reason. She's probably just one of those people who has an unlikeable face. But Derek seems to like it and a couple of other people, too.

They had woken her up at three in the morning, on the dot, must have said something along the lines of "off your butt, Montgomery" or "get up" with added profanity, of course. She couldn't remember exactly what the guard had said — hell, she can't/doesn't even want to remember half of what had happened on the day of her prison intake.

She had heard from some of the jails' nth timers that intake would be a whole day event, a lot of waiting in lines like school children, a lot of being shoved around, so she told herself that she'd have to take it, whatever it my be, to not react when they're screaming in her face or pushing her around because — whatever she does from then on would affect her release date.