<strong>Prisoner, Ella Thompson<br/>Prisoner Processing Facility</strong><br/><br/>The young woman grew uncomfortable as the blond woman's gaze traveled over her.  A few of Rich's friends had looked at her like that on the rare occassion they had a house party but this situation was a quite a bit different and a shiver crawled up Ella's spine.   She must be someone important...     Drawing in a sharp breath as that thought was pushed aside by another rush of pain across her brain.  A shakey sigh of relief escaped when standing as directed alleviated the pain immediately.<br/><br/>Warden Taylor.  As the woman spoke, Ella's eyes grew even larger in her pale face though she knew enough to keep her mouth shut.  This couldn't be right.. legal even; Gen-Tech must have rules to abide, standards, something.  She looked at the guards standing around in a relaxed attention, seemingly emotionless, but she saw the subtle turn up at the corner of several mouths; they were enjoying this.  Weren't they prisoners here too?  Unable to leave for weeks or months at a time.  Ella wondered what that did to a person, wondered if she would one day be happy at someone else's pain and fear.<br/><br/>Finally sitting, grateful the pain didn't return, she clutched at her 'personal belongings'.  The group was silent as she forced herself to nibbled on the bar of food.  It stuck, a pasty lump in her throat, until she drank enough water to push it down.  Ella wished she was home.  Not with Rich, her first and only lover for the past two years, no that had obviously been an error in judgement, but with her family.  She closed her eyes and thought of tapping her heels together, three times.  Wasn't that how it worked?<br/>