The Difference Between Lovers and Enemies

“Do you have anything on you that could stick or harm me?”

“No,” grumbled Maria Garcia under her breath, only to repeat it louder for the corrections officer. Maria was already in the correct stance, feet spread shoulder length apart and arms straight out, so the lady began to pat her down, starting with her shoulders and working down to her ankles.

“Bend over and cough.”

Maria rolled her eyes at the command, but complied. She had learned it was much quicker and easier to just do what they asked instead of arguing – which most officers took as an indicator to drugs being hidden somewhere. The frisk was just routine, and it had become so mundane that Maria went through the process almost without even thinking anymore. The elder woman, satisfied there was nothing hidden, allowed the younger to stand more comfortably as she moved back to the front desk to finish up the last bit of paperwork.

The room was boring, bleak. It was a dull grey color everywhere you looked – from the steel floors, to the light grey walls, to the dim lighting. It seemed as if they wanted anyone who entered to be reminded that this was not a happy place, and chose a moody grey to convey that theme. It worked like a charm.

In this area of the jail, it was almost always quiet with the only constant sound leaking from the clock mounted a good ten to twelve feet off the ground. Maria stared intently at the mechanism, blinking every third tick, to avoid her surroundings. It was easier that way.

The corrections officer sighed warily. “Honestly, Maria, I’m pretty sure I see more of you than your own family.”

“That’s not true.”

“I don’t mean them,” she said in a harder voice than usual. “I was referring to your mother, your father. When was the last time you saw your little sister, Isabelle? Your uncle Leo?”

Marias eyes narrowed into cat-like slits, a sour taste beginning to form in her mouth. “They aren’t my family.”

“No? Your broth – “

“I don’t want to talk about him!” she snapped. Her voice was loud, echoing off the walls for a moment.

Maria turned her head away, causing her long hair to waterfall around her face like a curtain. “He’s done nothing but hurt me.” she whispered in a tone not meant for the woman to hear.

She let the outburst slide with a sad shake of her head.

Her booking officer had a name. Danielle Leigh worked week-nights at the jail, had kids, but an absent husband. Maria never knew what happened to him, and though she was curious, she dared not ask – that would imply she cared, and that simply would not do.

Officer Leigh continued to sift through paperwork for another twenty minutes before she finally pushed the chair back from the desk, causing a teeth grinding noise to split through the silence. She exited through the metal door, probably in search of Marias folder containing her arrest record, and left the girl alone with the burly security guard who never so much as blinked, or so it seemed.

He had never once said anything to Maria, though they saw each other quite frequently. It wasn’t for a lack of trying on her part, he just remained stoic. She figured he was like that with all the prisoners, choosing to remain completely impersonal. She didn’t have the slightest clue of his name, even.

After a couple minutes, Officer Leigh returned with a key. She stood in front of Maria for a few moments, her dull blue eyes boring into vibrant sea-blue.

“Here are your release papers, Maria. Please try to stay out of trouble for at least a couple of weeks. Look into trying out college, maybe get a better job… visit your family.”

It was the same speech every time, and Maria gave her the same tight-lipped smile as always.