Guilty.

The word hung in the air for what seemed like an eternity in Maya's mind. How could she be declared guilty for killing her own sister? Something didn't make sense in that woman's testimony. Yet, the lawyer she was assigned didn't seem to notice. It almost felt as if the whole thing were rigged against her in some strange way. Even Mr. Grossberg, the man her sister told her to go to when she was in trouble, refused her defence.

All this went through Maya's mind as she was taken away by the guards, tears starting to form in her eyes. She was taken back to the detention centre, which she had familiarised herself with in the last few days. She was however, not taken back to her normal cell. Instead, the guards went further back, where there was a sealed door. They opened the door, giving rise to a repulsive scent. No, it was more of a stench than a scent. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something about that stench was positively disgusting. Then she realised where she was exactly.

The prison.

She was taken in even further than she expected, into a place she assumed was the women's sector of the prison. She was given a cell next to a young woman with strikingly bright red hair, and was given the prisoner number V-6592. She sighed, as they gave her her the clothes she was supposed to wear in prison, with her prisoner number in the centre of a striped white and blue dress.

Maya sighed sadly as she sat on the bed. She reminisced on how she was originally brought into the detention centre due to the detective whose name she had already forgotten. Was it Gumtree? It mattered not to her anymore. She thought back to the talk she had with the warden, who had seemed like a nice lady.

The warden, named Roland, seemed to have sympathy for Maya as she disclosed her feelings, half sobbing. What would she think now if she saw me being declared Guilty, Maya thought, tears welling in her eyes, as she changed into her new striped clothes. What would poor Pearly and Aunt Morgan do? She hoped they would at least visit her in her sad and foreboding prison cell. She kept her acolyte clothes in the corner, thinking that she would never have use for them again. As she finished this thought, she had completely changed into her striped uniform.

And that was the story of how Maya Wore Prison Clothes.

The End