Should've Taken the Plea Ch. 01

Her head spinning at the same time it felt as if a rhinoceros had just rammed her in the stomach, Martha Traber sat behind the Defense Council's table, between her two lawyers, strained to the point of instinctual disconnect as the jury read her guilty verdict.

Despite the fact that Martha had been approached with several plea agreements from the Federal Prosecutors that would have taken any jail time off the table, she had stubbornly maintained her complete innocence throughout process, just knowing she would be exonerated in the end.

"Once I'm able to tell my side of the story to those jurors and they're able to see I'm not a crook or a cheat... that I'm basically just like most of their mothers or grandmothers... there's no way they could send me to jail," Martha had, in the end, falsely surmised.

* * * * *

One of the most beneficial qualities of the human mind is its ability to rationalize things even in the most extreme and trying of circumstances. Being led down the waxed maze of prison hallways at the Medford Detention Center for Women her first day of incarceration, Martha filled herself with a mixture of denial and bull headed optimism as she soaked in the scenery of her home for the next three years.

Contrary to many of the nightmarish things she kept herself awake at night worrying about, her first experiences at Medford were tolerable. The grounds seemed adequately kept, there weren't any unsightly stains or smells soiling her senses and even most of the inmates and guards she encountered seemed innocuous enough on first impression.

Stepping into her assigned cell for the first time, Martha lifted her chin and gave a polite nod to the women she'd share living quarters with for the next 36 months.

"Hi... my name is Martha," the painfully nervous woman mouthed.

"Looks like I get stuck with the new girl, " her cellmate smiled " Pleased to meet you Martha... my name is Karen."

Not long after the guards had locked the cell and returned to their appointed rounds, Martha and Karen were chatting like two long lost school chums.

* * * * *

Karen Quinlin was 45, a little less than 10 years younger than Martha. She had called Medford her home for the previous two years and was scheduled for release loosely the same time as her new cellmate. Her slightly graying chestnut brown hair pulled back into a ponytail highlighted a pretty but plain face, devoid of much of the makeup she wore in her previous life as the wife of a prominent businessman and woman about town.

Her marriage having already grown loveless and stale, their relationship had simply turned into a business arrangement. And when several of their tainted real estate deals began to unravel, especially one that cost the brother in law of an influential local politician a million dollars, Karen and her Husband quickly turned on each other to get the best deal from the D.A... It turned out her Husband acted quicker and when she was arrested for fraud the same day the divorce papers arrived via FedEx, Karen knew her life was about to swirl down the toilet.

Martha could easily relate. A product of the backlash against white collar crime as well, she had gotten herself caught up in a stock scam with the company she worked for and without going into every tawdry detail, she had ended up playing the role of 'fallgirl' for several of higher ranking members of the company.

A kindred spirit found, Martha went from dreading the thought of prison to looking at it as a period of self reflection, growth and priority finding.

* * * * *

Her relationship with Karen growing more solid with each passing day, Martha was able to steadily navigate the other pitfalls of being in prison for the first time. While she did experience the occasional stare or threatening comment from other anonymous inmates, Martha slowly developed a sense of safety and comfort in her strange new world.

Away from the constant and draining grind of the business world and with her legal problems finally resolved, Martha gradually re-discovered the simple joys of life. Having lost nearly 20 pounds after being brought up on charges, with three square meals a day and not much else to look forward to, she struggled with a sense of dismay and relief as she piled the pounds back on.

"Being indicted is a underrated way to diet... everyone ought to try it," she would often tell Karen as she watched her body begin to chub out.

Other primal drives, besides hunger, that had long been cooped up inside Martha slowly began to re-emerge as well, and many of her and Karen's post 'lights out' conversations often drifted off in those seedy directions.

Having discovered they had been in similar marriages, each agreed that they had once loved their respective spouse, but somewhere along the way the zest, joy and excitement had long faded. In Karen's situation, to the point that her now Ex was willing to hasten her trip to the slammer.

"Would have screwed him before he screwed me," Karen would often lament.

"Speaking of screwing... when was the last time you had... you know... sex," Martha whispered out of the blue, always making sure to keep her voice hushed with the way sounds echoed through the facility at night.

"You mean with a man?" Karen answered after a long awkward pause.

"Yeah," Martha giggled like a nervous school girl from the top bunk.

"God... easily a year before me and Rick broke up... and add the two years in here... so its been over three years," Karen replied bluntly.

"There're other ways to cope though... At some point you have to find a way to relieve stress. I'm sure you hear me down here every once in a while," Karen continued, sensing Martha's discomfort by her sudden silence.

"No... No... I never hear anything," Martha lied, now hating the fact she even broached the subject, knowing it would be a topic they'd inevitably come back to.

Closing her eyes, hoping to put the issue to rest for at least that night, Martha felt the bedsheets below sizzle when Karen's raspy voice once again pierced the darkened silence.

"In fact... I'm doing it right now," the younger woman whispered from the bottom bunk. "You learn real quick in a place like this to be as quiet as possible."

Flat on her back, Martha's eyes shot open and she bit down on her lower lip as she listened to the telltale signs of Karen's breath rising and falling.

"Why don't you do it too Martha... can't let all that stuff get bottled up inside," Karen's warm voice invitingly offered.

"Oh... Uh... I... can't," Martha replied weakly even though her thighs had suddenly pressed tightly against each other as a thin layer of sweat beaded on her forehead.

"Don't worry Babe... you'll give into it at some point," Martha's new found friend predicted. "It's cheaper than cigarettes around here and a lot better for your health... in fact... speaking of cigarettes... I think I need one now!"

Both women laughed quietly at Karen's quip and the two shared a couple of minutes of pleasant post orgasmic conversation until Martha made a innocent comment that would change the tenor of their relationship forever.

"I guess its all the urban legends and the movies about prison that gives a person the idea that a lot more real sex goes on in these places... I've been here for over a month now and I haven't hardly seen anything," Martha sighed, politely waiting for a response that was an eternity in coming.

"There is Martha... there is," Karen finally replied from the bottom bunk, expounding no more on her cryptic answer.

Her throat suddenly as dry as the Sahara floor, Martha didn't know quite how to respond, no so much to what Karen said but the tone in which it was spoken.

"What do you mean?" she asked meekly, but no answer at all was forthcoming the second time.

"She's probably just gone to sleep... or didn't hear you," Martha told herself even though the cancerous concern suddenly growing inside her gut told her differently.

* * * * *

A few days after their awkward late night chat in the cell, Karen and Martha found themselves having lunch in the bustling cafeteria. Always amused by the formal way Martha organized and used her eating utensils before and during meals, Karen couldn't help but compare her new friend to another famous Martha that was also experiencing legal troubles.

"I think everyone in here is just waiting for you to make some doilies and napkin arrangements for the tables, " Karen sarcastically quipped, trying to break the ice that persisted from the way their conversation ended a few nights earlier.

Using her plastic fork and knife to daintily cut a piece of meat, Martha cast Karen an amused glare before attempting to take a bite of her entree. Before she could get the food in her mouth however, Martha felt several shadows ease directly up behind her.

"Who is... it?" Martha asked, dropping the fork back down on her plate when she saw a look of dread spread across Karen's face.

Not wanting to turn and face whatever presence had taken up residence behind her, Martha instinctively reached out and grabbed Karen by the forearm as if to say, "What's wrong?"

"You don't wanna know," Karen's gaze clearly replied.

Twisting her neck enough so she could turn her head to greet the visitors, Martha saw two women standing there; one a muscular, big boned brunette and the other a mousy, ethnic looking girl who appeared to be in her early 20's. They were two faces Martha had casually noticed during her stay at Medford and she trembled somewhat herself when she remembered the subtle way many of the other female inmates kept their distance from the two oddly paired women when they passed them in a social setting.

"Uh... would you like to... sit down and join us?" Martha robotically offered causing Karen to drop her face into her hands.

"No... No thank you," the larger of the two women politely replied. "We were just passing through... nice to see you again Karen."

"Hey there," the larger girl smiled, turning her gaze to Martha and placing her hand firmly on the shell-shocked woman's collarbone. "Its a shame Karen you didn't introduce us to your new friend."

With that, the two girls left as quietly as they came, leaving Karen and Martha sitting silently across from one another, both their apple sauces going cold as a tidal wave of uneasiness engulfed them both.

* * * * *

Resting uneasily on the bunk below Martha, Karen wished she had a straightjacket to put on to keep from tossing and turning and inevitably waking her cellmate.

"How in the world can I ever explain Bella to Martha?" Karen silently lamented, replaying the incident in the cafeteria a few days earlier as well as the two years worth of prior dealings with the prison bully, until she was nothing but a pile of emotional mush on her wrinkled bed sheets.

"I knew this would happen... I just knew it... of all the new girls that come into this place every week... Bella has to pick my cellmate out... MINE. A couple of months go by and I think Martha's out of the woods... SHIT... then this happens... what am I going to do?," Karen internally squealed, the word 'mine' rolling off her tongue with an acidic and awkward weight as she contemplated what the future would hold.

Stone straight her whole life, Karen hadn't fooled around or experimented with another woman, even in drunken days of college, much less as an adult. When she found out she was headed to prison for five years, on some level Karen knew 'what' went on in those types of places and even though she had done things once there that she was personally horrified by, the concept of 'love' never really dawned on her until she began her relationship with Martha.

In the deepest recesses of her mind Karen knew that Bella would approach Martha at some point, she always did when a new inmate caught her eye, but with her own newfound depth of feeling for Martha, Karen didn't expect to take it so hard when it finally happened.

"She's mine... mine... MINE... my life is shit right now... can't I just have this one thing," Karen wanted to scream.

"But that's just the way the jungle works... and Bella rules this jungle... and Martha... and Martha... if Bella gets her... she'll never be the same, " Karen withered in helpless fright, mashing her face deeply into her pillow to muffle her pitiful sobs.

* * * * *

The inevitable occurred four days later. Sitting in the same spot in the cafeteria as they had a week earlier when Bella interrupted their lunch, Karen and Martha sat there, picking at their meal when a heavy pair of footsteps once again approached the table.

"Good afternoon Ladies," Bella greeted both with a wry and impatient smile.

Turning to face Bella and her petite acolyte, Trina, Martha sucked in a deep breath and put on the bravest front she could.

"Hello," Martha tried to say but Bella looked right past her.

"Sorry to bother you again like this... but Karen... I need to see you for a minute... alone if you don't mind," Bella soberly offered, her voice tinged with the feeling that "no thanks" wasn't an option.

"Uh... Karen... you... don't... have," Martha strained to say, her voice trailing off as she saw the look of submission and defeat in her cellmate's bowed face.

"It'll just be a minute... I'll be... I'll be right back," Karen muttered, scooting up hesitantly from her meal to follow Bella's lead.

"Trina... you stay here and keep Martha company," Bella smiled, nodding the tiny Cuban girl over to the seat Karen had just vacated.

"We'll be right back," Bella bellowed one last time before gently nudging Karen towards the cafeteria exit.

Even though there were easily 200 women milling about the eating area, and the constant din made it difficult to think, Martha found herself drifting into a strange, secluded fog as Trina stared at her from across the table.

"... Hel... lo," Martha offered blankly, resulting in not so much as a blink from the young girl.

"Its because Bella's not here to tell her to blink," an inner voice reminded Martha.

"So... uh... ," Martha continued to stammer, wringing her hands together anxiously as she spun her head side to side, waiting for Bella and Karen to reappear.

Minute after minute passed however and all Martha was left to do was sit there and bake under the heat of Trina's glare as every woman in the cafeteria gradually began to whisper about what was going on.

Feeling her insides twist, Martha did the best she could to occasionally maintain eye contact with the barely 100 pound girl.

"She's so fragile... so small," Martha couldn't help but notice. "Her skin is almost a perfect golden tan... and her face is so angelic... but that stare... that stare of hers... its... its... demonic... its almost like she's possessed by something... or someone."

And in many ways, Martha was dead on in her assessment. Only 20 when she was arrested in the Florida Keys as part of a DEA drug bust, Trina Cruz was taken into custody, tried along with the 15 others netted in the bust and sent to Medford after she was convicted.

Scared and alone from the moment she stepped foot inside the facility, not knowing a word of English or the customs of prison life, Trina was easy prey for someone like Bella. And the protection and comfort that Bella provided for Trina was more than made up by the blind loyalty and brainwashed dedication that Trina freely gave in return.

Face to face across the table, withering under Trina's persistent stare, Martha felt as if the young girl's gaze was penetrating her flesh.

"I wonder what kind of hold Bella has over her?" Martha wondered, stopping herself quickly before pondering such a dreaded thought.

"You probably don't wanna know," Martha wisely decided, turning her eyes briskly away from Trina when a sudden hush fell over the cafeteria.

"It's Bella... she's back," Martha groaned, unable to ignore the way every woman in Bella's path moved aside as the alpha female strolled through.

With every step closer Bella took, Martha's face went more gaunt noticing Karen wasn't with her.

"Where's Karen... Where's Karen?" Martha whispered, unable to conceal the deep seeded concern for her friend.

"She's OK," Bella smiled. "Just said she wasn't feeling well... I think she got a guard to take her back to your cell.

"Trina and I... we might stop by a little later to check on her," Bella added after allowing Martha to stew for several seconds.

Everyone in the cafeteria took notice of the way Martha scooted up from the table causing two guards to run towards her.

A broad hawkish gleam spread across Bella's face as the guards led Martha back to her cell, knowing full well what was waiting for her when she got there and saw Karen.

* * * * *

"Think it was just something she ate?" one of the female guards snidely told the other before locking Martha back in her cell with Karen.

"In a way... Yep," the other attendant replied as the two shared a long snicker, just like two drunks in on a private joke.

The sound of the cell door closing behind her didn't so much as register in Martha's head as she stared at Karen, who was balled up in an fetal position under the covers.

"K... Karen... Karen... what's wrong... what did she do to you?" Martha asked helplessly.

"I don't... don't... want to talk about it, " Karen sobbed and sniffled. "The less you know the better... what's done is done."

"But Karen... we could... report... this... or do... something," Martha tried formulating a response but only felt her blood grow colder when she saw Karen press her face deeper into her already drenched pillow.

Stunned and motionless as her friend continued to cry, Martha's head was spinning out of control as she tried to make some sense, any sense, of Karen's crippling ordeal.

* * * * *

The subsequent night and following days proved to be unbearable as a shroud of depression and silence descended on the two. Normally chatty, only a minimum of small talk passed back and forth between the friends.

Over breakfast a few days later, Martha tried to muster the courage to break the ice with Karen but watching the way her still reluctant friend picked at her eggs, Martha decided it still wasn't the right time. Content to let the topic ride for another day, Martha felt her spine shiver when she looked across the table at Karen's sullen face.

"Oh No... Not again," Martha cringed, knowing full well what that look in her eyes meant.

Martha could instantly tell that Karen grasped the depth of the situation by the way her chin dropped against her chest.

"You can't have her again," Martha wanted to turn and scream at Bella, but her vocal chords went limp when she felt the woman standing behind her clamp her hand down tightly on top of her shoulder.

"Don't worry Martha... Karen can stay and finish her breakfast... Trina and I... we were hoping maybe you could join us for a few seconds," Bella politely offered.

"I'm... I'm fine... here... Th... Thanks," Martha trembled, trying to beg out as she studied Karen's face for any hint of help or understanding.

Before she had even realized she had been nudged to her feet, Martha found herself being led away by Bella, the brooding woman's hand firmly pressed into the small of her back as she escorted her through the maze of onlooking inmates.

"Where are we going... where are you taking me?" Martha spat frantically as Bella calmly pushed her out of the cafeteria.

"Stop it... Please... Stop it," Martha desperately wanted to blurt out in hopes of attracting the attention of a guard, who would most certainly rectify the situation, but when she tried all that left her mouth was a hoarse and abrasive whisper.

Feeling Bella's warm breath swirling against the back of her neck as the doors of the gymnasium at the end of the hall came into view, Martha closed her eyes, paralysed at the thought of what would happen once inside.