Katie knew what the other inmates thought of her. Frankly she didn't care. Making her time as easy as she could, while trying to bring a smile on the face of others, was all she cared about. If she could make someone laugh while they were behind these walls with her, then it was a good day. It wasn't a matter of someone else being able to do the things she did better, or it not being her job in the first place. It was about doing what made her happy. It was about taking some kind of control here. Control was something they took away from them, stripped them of. That's what places like this do. They strip a woman down until she literally has nothing, even her humanity could be lost. Katie had decided the day the judge told her in court she was old enough to go to big girl jail that her humanity was the one thing they were not going to take from her.<br/><br/>Her mind drifted back to her life outside of this place to a time where she was with her family and happy. It was a beautiful  morning. She was seated at the elegant piano in the living room. Her fingers began to play a melody. Even there, seated where she was, her fingers began to play that same melody. She hummed along, closing her eyes, drinking in the moment. For a brief moment, she was transported beyond the walls that held her, past the guards, down the road, through the city and countless homes until she ended right there in her own living room.  The scent was in her pores. Warmth from the large, bay window in the living room warmed her. Her feet seemed to sink into the plush carpeting of the home. It all came crashing down on her though as the dulled background noise from the room began to filter through, breaking into the safe space her mind had created. Her opened, and a wave of confusing emotions flooded her. She wasn't home, and yet, she wasn't at home. The very definition of irony.<br/><br/>She got up from the piano and headed down the hall towards her cell. She knew she probably didn't want to go inside, and as she got closer, her suspicions were confirmed. The door was shut. That was a clear sign to stay out. Still, she had a little fun with it. Her balled fist banged on the door, and she called out, "Come on Marge! No seriously! CUUUUUUMMM ON! lIckety splits and all," she giggled. "I want my….." Her voice trailed. "Nevermind! Get your bom chicka wah wah on! I'm gonna go see a doctor about a letter." She strolled on past the closed door and headed towards the doctor's office. His door was always open, and she knew he might be able to tell her if a letter from her parents had come in. She had a five year sentence, yes, but that wasn't all. The judge charged with a $150,000 fine due to damages as well as the aggravated nature of the crime. Though she had tried to set all the animals free, some sadly perished in the blaze. "So being a spokeswoman for the ASPCA is a hard pass," she had teased in court. Her family had decided that despite her crime, they would pay the fine. Life could be so easy when you had money. Money had paid the fine. Money had made sure her name would stay out of the media. This way all the socialites would think she had simply been away for five years studying abroad. Money had made sure she was able to get anything Mirkwater offered within the commissary and even some items that wasn't available there. Yes money could make life easier. Still she knew this would be a fine she would still have to pay to her parents.<br/><br/>When she got there, there was a rude awakening waiting for her. The door was locked. "Huh. So much for my door is always opened Doc," she yelled. "Got anything for me for today," she asked.