The walls are poorly painted over cinder blocks. In the corner, I see a silver commode next to a similarly styled sink.
What the hell kind of decor is this?
I feel out of sorts, my vision blurry, the room seems to tilt.
“Girl, you better watch yerself,” the voice says. “Yer comin' down hard.”
I look in the direction of the voice to see a woman, tall, broad, and wearing black. I try to place her from last night. Was she a bouncer?
I blink, trying to bring her into focus. I think she’s Hispanic, but it’s possible she just has a dark tan. It really doesn’t matter. I need to leave.
She’s blocking the path to the door, and there’s no way I’ll ever win at a physical altercation. Especially with how shitty I feel. I’m just going to have to wait for her to—
“Easy, now. Your law—” she takes a step towards me, then another.
Now’s my chance.
I dart to the woman’s side, then barrel towards the open door into bright white light.
“Hey, now! Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
I feel strong arms reaching around my waist, pulling me back into the room.
What if I’m being held hostage? What if they make ransom demands? Oh-my-GOD—what if I’m being sold into sex slavery?
“Let-me-GO!” I shout, twisting and biting the woman’s shoulder.
“Ouch!” she shouts. “You feral mutha-fucka!”
I stomp my foot down as hard as I can onto an incredibly hard shoe and whip my elbow around, trying to catch her in the face.
“Do you know the deep shit you’re gonna be in for assaulting a corrections officer?”
A corrections officer?
My body slumps, and I try to bring the room into focus, but the bright light streaming into the room makes it hard to see clearly.
The woman releases me. “That’s right, you better calm the fuck down. Now, as I was saying, your lawyer is here to see you.”
I turn to face the jailer. “My lawyer? Did someone try to kidnap me?”
It’s been a fear of mine since I starred in my first movie. I was thrilled by the amount of fan mail I received, but I can most certainly say I was NOT thrilled with the guy that sent me a vial of his own blood. Or the man who sent me a letter saying we should be together—forever—in the ‘other Earth’ realm.
Overcome with emotion, I embrace the jailer. “Thank you! Thank you so much! I can’t believe how crazy people are!”
“Uh-huh—” she says.
“If you guys hadn’t been there to help me, I don’t know where I’d be right now! People can be animals. They don’t know how to detach themselves from the me they see on the screen. Has a restraining order already been initiated?”
“Yep, sure has. Can ya let me go now?”
I release the jailer, trying my best to show an appreciative face.
“Thank you. If this goes to trial, I’m really going to need all the help I can get.”
“Oh, you sure will. Especially with the footage they have on you.”
“Footage they have on me?”
