Chapter 2 The Cruelty of Sorbano

Cassy quickly learns how cruel life in the prison can be.

Prison of Labor - Chapter 2

I followed Mae through the large steel door, accepting my new reality. I was hit by the warm heat of the air as soon as I passed under the door frame. Huffing in irritation, the air lifting a stray lock of hair and forcing it to settle off to the side of my face.

“These old buildings don’t have separate thermostats for every room so they keep it warm for the new babies. You’ll get used to it real quick,” Mae offered, guessing that it was the heat that was irritating me.

We walked in silence down the sterile hallway passing a door on either side of after every four or five feet. The doors were as white as the walls and I wondered if this is what my own living quarters would look like. I asked Mae about it.

“Listen up,” she said turning so abruptly that I slammed into her chest, “This place don’t like brats that ask questions. The best advice I will give you kid is to keep your mouth shut and follow the rules.”

With that she turned around and continued walking down the long, narrow hall. I followed in silence and after a minute she began to speak low, so low I had to rush up to hear her.

“These here rooms, they for the preggers, women who are in their last trimester and waiting to deliver. You won’t see rooms that big until you are in your third trimester with the first baby. I suppose your cycle was last week?”

Taken back by her direct question I simply nodded, not caring if she could see my response.

“Well then you will be put in the holding pin until they confirm your next cycle.”

“Holding pin,” I dared to ask. It sounded like a place you put cattle. Like on the farms that my father worked. I walked faster so that I was walking side by side with Mae. It wasn’t easy as she had a good foot and a half over me which made her stride larger.

She snorted, probably in response to my question, “Yes. Think of it like the gymnasium of your school but with row after row of bunks. If you’re lucky there will be an open top bunk, if not. Well, just learn to watch your face.”

I nodded again and kept silent. I didn’t want to know any more until I had to see it with my own eyes. I couldn’t help but compare what she described to my own bedroom at home. No, my old bedroom at my father’s home. I would never see it again so I might as well try to disassociate myself from it. Either way my new living space didn’t sound like I would find the same escape as I used to in my old one.

At the end of the hall we exited the building through another steel door and I found myself in a large, dirt court yard filled with some where around twenty young girls, close to my own age and dressed in the same stiff gray cotton dress. The color of our clothes seemed to blend and it was difficult to tell one girl from the other. This is what the government wanted. To strip of our identities. Make us appear dull and unattractive. It was easier when the men came to visit each month on procreation day.

Each man has a duty to his area. Report for procreation day and get in, get it done, and get out.

That was the slogan of every area across the country. They were going for quick reproduction and planned the entire process to ensure as little disruption to a man’s life as possible. After all he had children to raise. We learned in cycle class that it was down to five minutes now and that it was made easier so that the first time was so quick we wouldn’t have time to be scared or ashamed.

I turned to ask Mae another question, yes I probably shouldn’t but I really couldn’t help it, but she was no longer by my side. I scanned through the crowd hoping that I didn’t lose my first contact here in the prison. I spotted her in front of the crowd and tried to push myself through the others. I got several dirty looks from some of the taller girls but mostly everyone let me through. When I was almost to the front of the group a woman began to speak with a loud demanding voice.

“Listen up all you freshies. Welcome to the first day of your birthing sentence. My name is Sorbano and I am here to ensure you know the workings of the prison. As you should know from your official cycle classes you will be with us until you run dry. Each year you are expected to deliver one child to ensure that the population stays healthy and ready for the next child taking epidemic. Are any of you currently on cycle?”

We all looked around to see if there was anyone and were surprised to see that there was one hand raised tall in the crowd. The rest of us parted like a gray curtain to allow Mrs. Sorbano to find her.

“Good. So you were eager to come in and report for your sentence, were you,” asked Sorbano with a chill in her voice and a wry smile on her face. She was enjoying this.

“Yes, ma’am,” the girl said in a loud, proud voice that seemed familiar to me.

Once I was able to shove my way around the larger girl who had been blocking my view I narrowed my eyes at the girl who was now standing in front of Sorbano like a good little dog ready to receive some praise. It was Becca Goldfar. I went to cycle class with her and we lived on the same street. She was a cruel girl who was spoiled by her father who just happened to be the official mayor of Area 4. There was never a moment when she didn’t point out my plain clothes or crazy red hair. My freckles gave her the most joy. She loved to tell me how I was meant to be tan like her but my genes were messed up so I only got spots instead. She was tall with beautiful blond curls and an evenly tanned skin. She was the envy of every girl in the school and it was clear she had never had to do the work like most girls.

“Well,” began Sorbano, “Ain’t you a good citizen. What’s your name girl?”

“Becca Goldfar,” sung Becca, obviously please that she was the center of attention.

“Becca,” spat Sorbano startling everyone in the crowd. I took pleasure in the step that Becca took away from Sorbano. I couldn’t help but smile at the error she had made. She had given a last name. In cycle class were are taught that we no longer belong to a family and therefore no longer had a last name. A big mistake on Becca’s part.

“Yes, ma’am like I said Becca Goldfar,” she stuttered. The pride she held in that last name prevented Becca from seeing her mistake and I was giddy to know she was about to regret it. Okay, maybe I shouldn’t be taking pleasure in someone else's pain, even if it was Becca, but every bullied person dreams of this day. I couldn’t help it.

“Come here girl,” demanded Sorbano and I noticed that Mae was walking up with a black bag, just like the one Doctor Devon carried when he came to the house for our monthly check up. Becca walked up to an angry Sorbano and screamed when the large woman reached out and snatched a thick chunk of Becca’s hair.

“Listen up girly. You are nothing but a baby incubator in here and don’t you forget it.”

The malicious tone in Sorbano’s words sent chills up my arms and demanded the attention of every girl standing in the court yard. Quiet sobs could be heard from Becca who was hiding her face in her hands.

“First I need to make sure you’re not lying about being on cycle,” Sorbano said as she shoved the hand not holding Becca’s hair up the girl’s dress. Everyone was shocked at this cruel treatment and Becca let out a second scream as Sorbano invaded her panties.

“Yes, she is on cycle,” confirmed the woman removing her hand and shoving it into the dirty towel that Mae was holding out to her. We watched in silence as Mae cleaned off the hand of our facilitator who still hadn’t released Becca’s hair. We watched as Mae tossed the rag into a plastic bag, put it into the larger black bag and pulled out a large pair of scissors handing them to Sorbano.

“Now, watch as I show you what we think of girls who try to flaunt their s**t in here,” Sorbano spoke loudly with the scissors raised high for everyone to see. When she was satisfied that everyone was watching she proceeded to chop of Becca’s hair. She was so brutal with those scissors that I was convinced she would slice an ear in the process.

Becca just stood there. Her hands had fallen to her side and she stared blankly into the crowd, tears streaming down her face. When Sorbano had finished she kicked Becca in the side and the girl fell to the ground at our feet. Her hair had been cut into short chunks that were uneven and ugly. All evidence of her beautiful curls was gone and she looked small and weak. I regretted the pleasure I took in knowing she would be punished and now I couldn’t help but pity this poor creature.

“Mae, when I am finished take her to the clinic to be examined. As for the rest of you, collect one cover, a second uniform, a second pair of panties, a towel, and a toothbrush. These will be the only set you will ever receive so you better take care of them. Once you have collected your s**t you will follow me to the holding pin where you will be assigned a bunk. Each girl is to report to Mae once they have left their stuff at their bunk. The doctors will be waiting for you to do a complete check up and then you will be assigned your duties. Any questions?”

I am pretty sure that evil b***h asked us to see if anyone would be foolish enough to say so. No one did, thankfully. When she was certain that no one had a question Sorbano instructed us to line up and gather our things. I watched from the line as Mae helped Becca up off the floor and ushered her out of view. I wondered if I would ever see Becca Goldfar again.

Reviews

[Tsukin Archangel]

Liking it. But one thing I have to say is this:

So I know that in this world the woman are treated like cattle. But I feel A) The way you describe it as being OBVIOUSLY horrendous treatment to woman to be kind of... I suppose contradictory. Just because if you think about it. Who in their right minds would just let their daughters go to a place where they didn't believe their family members would be treated with the utmost respect. Now obviously you can have an obvious undertone that yes this is horrid horrible life these woman are subjected to, but I wouldn't expect anyone to just straight up call it a "prison". This is the type of book and scenario that I feel deserves to have that subtle illusion factor. The young girls think it'll be a wondeful paradise where they help their world survive. Plenty of brain-washing propoganda and of course all the closeted cruelty in the world. Marks and bruies hidden on the chest, upper thighs etc.

The fact that the behaviour is so obviously barbaric and prison like makes me wonder why their isn't an uprising. It seems like the system would just fall.

But other than that I love the character. And teh pacing seems fine!
Great job!

P.S I edited the first chap in Tower if you didn't know... you told me to let you know sooooo yeah.