<strong>Prisoner, Ella Thompson<br/>Prisoner Processing Facility</strong><br/><br/><br/><br/>Three strikes meant her life was no longer her own.  Ella was stood in line dazed still from the speedy trial and sentencing.  They'd found a small handgun among all the pot and pills in her car.  Denial got her no where because she still couldn't believe Rich would set her up as they tried to convince her.  It wasn't until they were taking her away from the court room a uniformed man at each elbow when she heard his voice calling, "I'm sorry! Ella Ella! I'm sorry!"  She barely managed to crane her neck around to see him being held back by court officers and the look on his face said enough and her heart broke right in her chest.  Rich may not of intentionally set her up but all those drugs were his.  God, how could she have been so blind.<br/><br/>She'd seen her family in the courtroom; her mother crying, her brothers helpless in their anger, and her father stoic with his arm around his grieving wife.  They knew it was going to be bad for their little girl, it always was these days.  The man only allowed himself a glance at the girl before turning his eyes to stare blindly ahead.  Ella saw him though, for the first time since she moved in with a man ten years her senior, and before they pulled her through the door to a grim future she called out to him, "Daddy!"<br/><br/>As this replayed in her mind, she was heedless of the blood leaving her fingers.  Eyes on the back of some woman's head seeing her father instead, holding her mother tight to his side as a tear slipped down over a cheek.  Ella felt a tear on her own cheek, a silent slip of wetness before a sudden movement over head nearly pulled her off her feet.  A soft gasp and stumble before she righted herself and followed along the motorized track, moving through the intake process with wide eyes.  The repeating recording chilled her.  Gen-Tech, well known but mysterious;  her life was theirs now.<br/><br/>The cutting off of her clothes drew a whimper, exposing her soft curves.  Rich had called her his lush lover, sometimes his plush pet.  It was sexy when he whispered it, his hands moving over body making her squirm and sigh.  She wasn't feeling so sexy at the moment, not at all.  Her only protest as the track pulled her along the intake stations, was a deep blush and sucking in of air as warm flesh met cold table.  Unable to pull away to relieve the shock, Ella bit her lip the soft whirring of moving parts barely a warning to what was next.  As the needle pressed into her neck, she struggled.  Lucky for her the bindings held her frozen in place, and she cried out working up to a scream... and it was over.  The girl shuffled along, swallowing hard as the thing was explained, then another cry as pain shot across her brain.<br/><br/>Ella was only too happy to put on the ugly gray garb, the guards and intake personnel though relatively silent had eyes and hands that made her skin crawl.  Finally, emotionally exhausted, she was able to sit.  Holding her 'belongings' on her lap she had more freedom to look around at the others, seeing them really for the first time.  Swallowing hard again - what she wouldn't do for a glass of water - she turned her gaze to the dais to see a woman, well dressed with a look of authority.  She must be someone important.