A/N: Chapter two! Booyah! If you haven't noticed already, I'm naming every chapter after a Red Hot Chili Peppers song. And yes, I do love RHCP. Review and so on and so on and so forth. Reviewing encourages me to upload faster.

Let the record show that I really don't like being stared at. Unfortunately, being a member of the female sex, it happens from time to time. I'll let you decide how uncomfortable and twitchy I felt in the lunchrooom of the prison, with all those peering eyes trying to undress me through the plain white shirt and blue prison pants I had donned before Captain Knauer had dropped me off here. I moved through the line to get...well I wouldn't really call it food, but I suppose it might be considered edible in extreme circumstances. I scanned the room after the substance had been scooped on to my tray, and took in the large metal walkway above the room, and my eyes lingered on the guns the two men possesed as they slowly patrolled back and forth over the prisoners.

I forced my eyes away and looked for an open seat, my heart sinking slightly when I saw nothing but a bunch of hungry stares, and they weren't thinking about food. A whistle snapped my head to the right, but it wasn't a catcall, more like a "Yo! Look over here!" kind of thing. A skinny brown guy with astonishing white teeth waved me over, and I gratefully walked in his direction. I dropped my tray down across from him and he favored me with smile I didn't return.

"Girl, I don't think I've seen someone walk in prison before and cause everyone to drop whatever shit they're doing. Then again, a female has never graced our midst before." He held out his hand and I shook it. "Name's Caretaker, and whatever you need, I can aquire it. Weed, meth, Prozac, and I can even get you McDonalds."

"What? No way. For real?" I asked, my eyebrows raised.

"Yeah I got a guy, name's Cheesebruger Eddie." He pointed to a large black man with no hair handing some ugly, very obese man a packaged burger. I suppressed a smile, and poked my steaming food with a scrunched up nose. If it smelled as bad as it looked, I would have opted out of a tray.

"Name's Blue Rose. And I might be taking you up on that last one." Caretaker looked a little incredulous. "Yeah, I have a stupid name, and my parents dropped too much acid. Or they thought a plant made my mother pregnant and were just guessing at the father." I offered, and blew air upward towards my choppy bangs, but they just fell back into my eyes like always. The thin man laughed as I looked around the room again.

"What can you do for me about the company of a cute guy?"

"Well you'll have to lower your standards...a lot, but you could have your pick of any guy in here, girl, except for those distinguished ladies over there." I followed his gaze to a group of...well, I didn't know what those guys were, but they had cut their clothes to resemble a female's (they were wearing make-up too), and the mixed gathering waved emphatically at me. I slowly waved, a little taken aback.

"I think I'll pass on having them for my chick friends. I might consider hanging with a serial killer to be better company. And I don't think any guy could have me, Caretaker. I have a feeling our big strong guard friends might consider themselves too high and mighty for me. See you later." I left him with a grin on his face, and started walking to dump my tray, when I saw a big dude plant himself in front of me. I turned around and two more of his buddies were already there, each one of them as burly as the first, with sick smiles on their ugly faces. It looked like my odds weren't really that good, and I had a feeling they weren't going to get better.

"May I help you, gentlemen?" I asked in my deep accent, my mind whirling though all the possible moves I could make, and all the moves these guys could stop me from making. All went tense as the inmates watched the little group, but they didn't stop talking, probably to not alert the guards that something was going down.

"Yeah, little girl, I think you can." The first man I had encountered replied, my back still to him as I eyed his companions warily. I stiffened as I felt a large hand trail lazily up the back of my right thigh, and it traced slow circles as it reached my hip. In an instant, I had tossed my tray of hot food all over him, and I felt the vibrations go up my arms as I hit him upside the head with the piece of thick blue plastic. He went down with an audible thump on the hard floor, and that's when things went crazy.

His lackeys attempted to grab me, but the entire room had erupted into mass chaos. Everyone started fighting someone else, whether or not they even knew of each other's existence before five seconds ago. I felt my head rock back painfully, and something trickle out of my mouth. I recovered and, straightening up, I laid eyes on one of the lackeys who had my blood on his left fist, and a smirk on his face. I took advantage of the giant fight that I had started, and used it to get up close to the gigantic man, and I landed a kick straight to his knee. I heard a sickening crunch as my shoe connected hard. When he bent forward with a shout, I took his big bald head, and I slammed it into my own knee.

"HORNET'S NEST!" I heard someone next to me call, and I felt myself get dragged to the ground by none other than my new friend, Caretaker. A deafening explosion echoed through the room, and I felt something sting my face right across my cheekbone. "Second nest in two weeks, and the second fight in two weeks. Damn girl, you're just as bad as Crewe! You white people sure know how to stir it up." I snorted, and wiped the blood from my mouth, noticing that another thin stream was trailing down my face from the new graze under my left eye.

"STAY DOWN!" I recognized the voice as one of the guards who had brought me here, but the sound of approaching feet interested me more.

"Come on, Inmate, on your feet." I felt a hand grab my upper arm and haul me into a standing position, and my eyes found the brown bovine gaze of Guard Thomas, my bestest friend in the world. "What the hell did you think you were doing?"

"Making some new friends, sir." I explained, standing tall and refusing to back down under his hateful look.

"You may be a female, Inmate Rose, but you're no different than any other piece of worthless ass that walks into this shithole."

"Oh, but I think I'm marginally prettier than those boys, sir." I gave him a look of wide-eyed innocence, and I heard the laughs and snickers of the grounded men behind me. Guard Thomas' slap yanked my head to the right, and I spat blood on the floor before turning to face him again. "You know, I'm getting real tired of that, boss. It's not polite to hit a girl. Just think what your mother would say." He rose his arm to hit me again, but I caught his hand, my eyes hard.

"You're going down, Rose." He said, his teeth clenched, and he tore his arm out of my grasp before sneering at me. "You get a turn in the hotbox."

"Oh, joy."


Oh no.

I lost count of how long I had been in here, but it seemed like an eternity.

I lost count of how many times I thanked God I wasn't claustrophobic, but it seemed like a lot.

I lay on the floor of the hotbox, my white shirt off to reveal the white exercise bra that they had given me. (Thank God it was one of the sweat wicking ones.) Apparently underwires can be made into weapons. Go figure. I knew I must be dehydrated, but I didn't really care. What bothered me was the lack of sound my companion in the box next to mine was making. Either he died, passed out, or didn't like talking to me. I was hoping for the second one, because he sounded like a nice fellow. I heard the sound of an approaching car, and I slowly scooted over to one of the metal holes in the tiny space, and peeked through. I watched one of the guards drag my companion out into the sunshine, where I was able to see he was unconscious.

I owe myself twenty bucks. I thought, then jumped when I heard a loud banging on the door to my own box.

"You had enough, Rose?" A remarkably bland looking man demanded, and I wiped my hand across my still healing mouth, and it came away damp with sweat.

"How long have I been in here?" It must've been a month at least.

"Two days. Ready to join the boys in the general population?" Are you mentally challenged? OF COURSE! GET ME OUT OF HERE!

"Yes sir."

He unlocked the door and I stepped out into the light shakily, hoping that my legs would support me for a while. The man glanced at the white shirt in my hand, and his eyes were drawn to the long, red scar that marked me from the middle of my left ribcage, across my stomach, and ended at the top of my right hip bone. Seventy two stiches had been required to keep my insides in.

"Why is your shirt off, Inmate?"

"It was rather hot, sir." I responded, wiping my face with the shirt.

"Wouldn't you prefer your shirt to be on?"

"Not at the moment, sir." He gave my scar one last glance, and then dragged me into the blissfully cold car. Jesus, when I got out of this place I was moving to Antarctica, and I was going to roll in the snow NAKED. The drive back to the cell block was silent except for the whir of the air conditioner, and the purr of a beautiful piece of automobile. I was pulled out of the car and escorted across the giant desert of The Yard, around the large football game that was going on where I spotted Caretaker, and I threw a quick wave his direction. He raised his hand in acknowledgement, but looked surprised at the twisted scar I showed with indifference. Or maybe he was just surprised I was shirtless, I didn't know either way.

Wonder if who's coaching the team.

Anyway, I was dragged along towards a part of the prison I hadn't been in yet, and I felt my stomach drop a little as I saw my destination.

The showers. A place of...discomfort, in polite words. I thought of American History X, and internally grimaced at the thought.

Amazingly, they were all empty, which led me to assume everyone else was either in the cell block, or chilling outside. The bland guard gave me a change of clothes and some shower stuff, and gruffly informed me that he was keeping watch so no one would bust in and "hurt a pretty thing like yourself". I would serously be worried for the guy that came in, not because of the guard, though, because of what I might do. I stripped, and stepped under the metal fixture, turning the knob to as hot as I could stand it. I gave a sigh of pleasure as the searing hot liquid pounded down on me, and the room quickly filled with steam.

I scrubbed my skin until I was satisfied that it was no longer grimy, and I washed my hair three times to clean it sufficently. I toweled off and pulled on the clothes that had been left for me, before knocking at the door to let the man know I was done, and the door opened. I walked through it quickly, my mind and hands preoccupied with trying to smooth down my hair (a futile gesture), when I crashed into a tall, solid mass.

I sprawled onto the ground and winced as I hit tailbone first. I looked up to see who I had run into, only to discover I had run into someone I didn't want to at all.

"Oh-I-I'm-" I stammered as I tried to crawl to my feet, only to fall a second time...

And be caught by Captain Knauer.