{sorry, I've been in London for 4 days}

Sydney looked around in the cellblock as they made their way down the hallway of cells on the first floor, she had a few female inmates walking in front of her and behind her but sepereated from them by guards. She didn't mind, she didn't mind anything, not even the foul language used by a few male inmates as they walked passed their cells. It was worst than the language she as a young child would have gotten beaten for. 
 Sydney rolled her eyes at a man reaching through the iron bars, the front wall of the cell was made of, in an attempt of touching the girls walking past him. He was in his late twenties and his tanned skin was covered in all sort of tattoos. So people maybe would have find him scary with his tattoos and cruel smile, but Sydney just found him laughable.

Sydney was soon shoved into a cell on the seconds floor, glad to have gotten rid of the worst sound of the disgusting men downstairs. She was extremely calm as she sat down and leaned against the cold wall in her cell. Not once had she protested, she knew it would do her no good. More protests and more fighting, meant that more attention would be drawn to you, both from other inmates and guards, and if the guards consided you as trouble, they will keep an extra eye on you, which will make it harder to escape.