She accepted the clipboard as it was handed to her and looked down at the face sheet. This was not her job as she would never find herself employed in a penitentiary, but the position was available and they wanted to see her perform.
Ava Crowder
The name gave her pause. She paused before the woman. Blonde. Tall. Around her age. Her hair was cut in a haphazard manner as if she had done it herself. She sported her share of contusions and tears.
”Ava Crowder—?”
Visiting the infirmary was becoming daily routine for Ava, not by choice, but because the fate of her physical health befell plunging into the merciless palms of less personable inmates. It seemed southern belle had been doomed upon arrival considering the unwelcoming party she received upon her arrival.
Name called, frame arched from seat and she stepped forth in line, azures instantly drinking in the stranger standing before her. Must’ve been nice having access to the luxuries of cosmetics at your fingertips. Ava could’ve used a long, relaxing hot bubble bath or refreshing clay facial to replenish wounded, decaying cells caused by unforgiving tattooed knuckles and brute blunt force trauma. For a moment, she envied her.
“– That would be me,” a steady sigh escaped healing split lips. Worried expression washing over her features and she wondered what had happened to the African American woman looking to make a deal. How much longer would it be before she could finally catch a break? “You’re new here, huh?” Digits rose to encompass sore shoulder, kneading previously torn muscle to help dull the ache as they ventured towards examination table.
ofcriminalgrace reblogged this from kyouminaine and added: Taking seat upon sterilized surface, shoulders slumped and azures tapered to lap momentarily. Nurse’s touch averted her...
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