From the Ashes (Possessed 2.50)

Chapter One

Ashley

Incarceration day

The clang of the cell door closing behind me is my new harsh reality. For one year, three hundred sixty-five days, those doors will be the only friend I have. Looking over to my cellmate laying on the bottom bunk of the bed, I know she immediately hates me. She’s judging me on my perfectly died caramel-colored hair and my cute manicure that Mom forced me to get a week ago.

I regret that now.

At the time, I’d just wanted my mom to look at me how she used to before she realized what a raging bitch I’d become. That day opened my eyes to how disappointed she was in me. It fucking hurt worse than anything I could imagine.

Now this bitch is looking at me like she’s going to eat me for breakfast, and sadly, it is probably true. I’m not prepared for this. For anything other than the cushy life I’ve led.

Not saying a word to the other woman, I toss my meager belongings on my bunk and prepare to make my place in my new living quarters.

“You gonna introduce yourself or what, Malibu Barbie?” And so it begins.

“Ashley,” I reply, trying to hold back the involuntary sneer that wants to come out. I have to tone down my attitude, or I’m going to be somebody’s bitch.

“Barbie’s got ‘tude, d

oes she?” The other woman is taunting me. I know she is. She wants to fight. The problem is, I don’t know whether she’s doing it to feel me out or to bait me into a confrontation I won’t win.

Nine Months to Release

“C’mon, Barbie! Climb that fucker!”

It’s not often that anyone cheers for me in my life. Not when I was in school, not when I fucked up, and certainly not since I’ve come here. These girls take every chance they get to bust my proverbial balls, never call me by my real name, and beat on me every chance they get.

Today, though? Today, they are encouraging me in a team exercise the prison shrink wants us to do.

Climb a fucking rope.

So here I am nearing the top of the rope with jelly arms and flailing legs, wanting to make it to the highest point so I can show the rest of these girls that I’m not just some uppity bitch like they think. Then again, I also want to let go so my arms stop shaking, not to mention, I don’t want to climb my way back down.

Sweat is pouring off me like a waterfall, making my grip slippery, and just as I’m about to reach higher with one hand, my other slips and I’m fucking airborne.

“Fuuuucckkkkk!” I scream all the way down. When I land flat on the mat below, the wind is literally knocked out of me and pain radiates through my entire body. Even my hair hurts.

“Motherfucker!” I wheeze, unable to take a breath.

My legs twitch with every moan. My back aches in a way that makes me wonder if I might have broken something, and my head is beginning to pound. Spots blur my vision, and in an instant, everything goes dark.

Fuck. Am I dying?

Six Months to Release

“Get up!” Someone screams, but all I feel are the kicks to my gut; every footprint that will turn to bruises on my body in more places than I’ll ever be able to count. I still don’t understand what I’ve done to piss off my cellmate this time, but she sure enjoys taking her frustrations out on me.

Putting my hand up in an effort to stop the abuse, a thought occurs to me—this is what Cecilia felt like—and in that moment, I finally shatter. I did this to someone. I made them feel worthless.

I deserve this.

“Fuck you, cunt.” I taunt her so she continues the assault. I’ll take everything she gives me and more. This is what I deserve. Not because I’ve done something to her, but because I’ve been her.

Three Months to Release

“Powers,” I hear the guard call just before my cell door opens. “You have a visitor.” Confused, I get off my bunk, hands raised, and slowly leave my cell after the cuffs are put on.

Since coming here, I have refused to accept visitors because I can’t handle seeing my parents. I don’t need their pity or to face their disappointment in me. I have enough of that on my own. I didn’t expect Landon to visit me, and I can’t blame him. I’m undeserving of his forgiveness and would never put him in the position where he felt the need to give it to me.

Cecilia should and always would come first for him, and I only hope that one day his anger will lessen. I desire nothing but the best for them both.

As we make our way through the halls of the jail, every clinking door behind us has me cringing. It’s a sound I will not miss when I leave here.

We reach the visitor’s lounge—I don’t understand why they call it that; it’s more like a sterile room where the mice go to die—and I’m shocked to see who my visitor is.

Looking to the guard for confirmation that they are here for me, she nods her head and tells me, “You have five minutes.”

Walking to the table, I’m not sure what to say or do. “Cecilia?” Shock clear in my tone.

When she turns to me with a smile, I almost faint. It is genuine. She’s happy to see me, and I don’t understand why.

“Why are you here?” It’s rude; I know it as soon as I say it. I am seriously astounded right now.

“Landon doesn’t know. Neither do your parents,” she says to me in response. Still not answering my question.

“Oookkkaayy?” What the fuck am I supposed to say?

“You won’t see them,” she accuses.

“No.”

“Why?”

Good question.

My answer is selfish, so I didn’t want to tell her.

“I don’t want to be rude, but why are you here?”