I enjoyed the last chapter! Too bad I don't feel the same way with this one. It's not that don't like it, it's just that it's sort of the beginning of what can only be described as a decline into pure madness.

I had to do a lot of researching on Juvenile Detention centers before writing this to get it as accurate as possible. I hope I did a good job. This chapter not only begins the arch of being in Juvenile Detention, but the introduction of quite a few OC's, so bear with me here; I tried to make them as realistic as possible.

Um, school starts Monday, and I can't say exactly how often I will be able to update. If ratemyprofessers . com are right in any way I'll be having to write nine page reports rather than nine pages of fanfiction for one class.

Last note, it has donned on me that I will not be getting to the halfway point with this story like I said a few chapters ago, which sets me back a little bit but not by much. On that same note I hope to have two chapters fore every year TJ spends in juvie. It was going to be more, but choose to simplify that by making them longer. The first year doesn't count; there will be more than two chapters for his first year which begins now.

Read On!

Bumps, jumps, and quick and abrupt stops filled TJ's ride to the Juvenile Detention Center. Just moments after hearing the sentence he received he was rushed out of the courtroom to begin serving it right way. He was handcuffed and put in the back of a police truck. The Duval juvenile Detention center was on the border of the state three hours away, meaning that he was stuck in the back of the truck for the entire ride, and it wasn't air conditioned. On the way they had stopped a few times to pick up a few others who were going to the same place; two girls and year older than him, and another boy in his teens. None of them were in the mood for talking to the ride was quiet. About an hour into the ride they all had managed to fall asleep even with their hands forced behind their back with the handcuffs. Sleeping was the only thing to keep them from worrying about where they were going.

~*~LATER~*~

"WAKE UP, YOU LITTLE BASTERDS!" The sound of banging and screaming filled his ears, waking him from his sleep. He, as well as the rest of the others were greeted by officers opening the door to the truck and dragging them out. His feet barely touched the ground before an officer was pulling him and the others into the building where they were told to stand next to a wall and not to say a word. Once all the officers and guard were inside and they locked the doors they all faced the new inmates.

"Listen up," one of the guards yell at them. "We don't care why or how you've gotten yourselves in here. You're here now, and now that you're here you are going to listen to us! We don't care what you have to say about doing something we tell you to do! That's what your parents do, and we are not you parents! You will not talk until we tell you to talk! You will walk when we tell you to walk! Failure to comply to ANY of the rules will led you to a punishment that I am not able to describe by law! Now when you go in there, you're going to be separated by gender and age! You will then have your picture and fingerprints taken! The faster you move the easier it'll be!"

'Does he really have to yell this loud?' Thought TJ. He wanted to call himself upset but that would not have been a strong enough word. The ride over here was hot, then he was yanked out of the truck without any sort of warning before hand, and now he was getting yelled at by an officer, or guard or whatever he was called.

"Let's go!" The guard yelled. They were lead down a long gray hallway, and at the end of it the girls were separated from the boys. The two groups were lead down opposite directions. They were lead outdoors where they could see two bigger four story buildings in the back, one for the girls, and one for the boys. "This is your new home from however long you're supposed to be here!" The guard said as they walked into the building. Once they reached the end of the first hallway they were asked their ages. After that they were separated, leaving TJ by himself. He walked, with a guard at his side and one behind him to a door in the next hall to his left. Inside another guard was sitting at the table talking on the phone. His handcuffs were taken off and he was told to sit in the chair in front on the desk.

Rubbing his wrists, TJ looked around the room. And area for taking pictures was right behind the desk, and it looked like there was a shower in the back. The whole building looked old and run down, with lights that flickered on and off every few seconds. But it was big; did they really need four floors for juvie?

"What's your name, kid?" The guard sitting at the table asked.

"TJ Detweiler."

"That's not a name," Said the guard. "Those are letters. I'll ask you again. What is your name?"

"Theodore Jasper Detweiler," He said with a grimace.

"Alright. Go back there," Said the guard, pointing to the back of the room. "There's a shower back there, and a bucket with delousing shampoo, soap and everything else you need to get clean. Be back out here in ten minutes. Your uniform will be out there when you're done." He waved for him to go back there as the phone began to ring. One look at the shower and TJ going to refuse to even step in there. Hard water buildup, grime, and rust lined the shower, and it simply didn't look safe to even take one step inside. Looking down to the bucket he luckily saw a pair of shower shoes that were meant to guard against the dirt.

~*~TEN MINUTES LATER~*~

'God this shampoo stinks…'

Stepping back out to the front of the office, TJ now wore a light blue prison jumpsuit with what he presumed to be his number, 784694, stitched on the top left side on it, and brown boots. The pungent odor of the delousing shampoo was always five steps ahead of him. He didn't understand why he had to use it; it wasn't as if he had lice, plus it smelled, and it wouldn't go away. The jumpsuit was a few sizes too big and fit awkwardly on him. He wondered where the other older boy was. Did they have separate area for kids based on age? If that was the case then he figured that he would be around kids his own age and the place didn't seem as threatening as everyone made it out to be. How different could it possibly be to deal with kids his own age? He did it all that time back at Third Street. After being fingerprinted and having his picture taken another guard came in and lead him onto a nearby elevator. He walked a bit further before reaching the last door. Inside he saw it was large open area. On the sides of the walls were doors which were the rooms for those being held there. There were also stairs that lead to a higher level where more rooms were held. Tables were scattered around the room and one TV was on the wall in the back corner. A loud bell rang and the other inmates starting to come in through a door in the back.

"You get feed three times a day," The guard began, leading him throughout the area. "Breakfast is at 9:00 a.m., lunch is at 1:00 p.m., and dinner is at 6:00 p.m. If you're not there at that time then you're not eating. The showers are communal, get in whenever you need to. I suggest doing so every day for you won't start to smell like a piece of road kill. School is Monday through Friday, 10 o'clock to 12:30, then 2:00 to 3:00. You don't have a choice whether or not to go. You get an hour outside in the morning and one in the evening at 8:00 a.m. and 4:00 p.m. If you wake up one day and decide to go crazy then we have the white rooms for you. If you decide to show the world how crazy you've gone by hurting another inmate then we have the pink room. Everyone gets a roommate," The guard said stopping at an open door on the top of the higher level. "Johansson, you got a new roommate."

Peeking inside, TJ could see a bunk bed, two shelves, and a sink and toilet in the corner. The room itself was only a little bigger than two of the bunk beds, and had a small window on the wall. Everything was in bad shape, and the paint on the walls was chipping away. The boy who the guard was talking to was lying on the top bed reading a book. He was of African descent, and wore his hair in dreadlocks along with a pair of sunglasses and the same light blue prison jumpsuit.

"Are you serious?" He asked the guard. "The last guy just got transferred over this morning and you people give me a new scrub to deal with the same day? What the hell do I have to do it get a room to myself? Kill someone? This is some bullshit….."

"Deal with it Johansson," Said the guard before leaving. "I'll be back in a minute with all of your stuff."

"The fuck are you in for?"

"Someone set my school on fire and I got blamed for it," Said TJ.

"Ugh. You get bottom bunk. That should go without sayin' since I'm on top and you a scrub," He said. "Name's JoJo, and that sink is really attached to the toilet."

"…ew, really? Is it clean?"

"Probably not. Now stop talkin', I'm trying to read here…"

"Alright, here's your stuff kid." Turning around TJ saw that the guard had returned with two medium sized boxes. "Your uniform, school books, towels, soap, and everything else you'll need is in here. Laundry comes around every Saturday morning. We do inspection every Sunday. If we find anything in here that shouldn't be there expect to get disciplined." Taking the boxes and setting them on the bottom bed, TJ thought about the situation. There were so many rules! But at the same time, there were some many kids here! They couldn't possibly be able to catch and control all of them; a few of them must be able to slip through the cracks. And he planned to be one of those who slipped through the cracks of the guard's attention. All he needed to do was figure out how they worked and what they did each and every day. That should take more than two weeks at the most.

"Where do they expect me to put all this stuff? There's no room in here!" He yelled.

"Did I not just say 'shut up?'" JoJo snapped. "Look, there's room under the bed for all ya stuff. If ya gonna keep talkin' then take that outside. Shit; tired of hearin' people's voices today. And stay out of people's way. That includes me, Freckles."

'What is that guys problem?' TJ thought as he left the room. After putting the boxes under his bed he was more than willing to leave that room. It was barely big enough for one person, and two kids have to share it. At least he only HAS to be there when he wanted to sleep. Sitting on the steps with his legs hanging over the edge, TJ looked down at the area below him. There were a lot of kids. Some were hanging around in their own group, some were sitting at the tables playing cards, a few were doing homework (but that's was only one or two, and they were in the corners as if to avoid the others), and a couple were fighting over the TV. And it was loud due to most of them talking.

'At least this area is big,' He thought. 'I can't stand being in some crowded place every day. What time is it?' Seeing an old clock hanging on the wall he saw that it was 5:30. Dinner wouldn't be for another thirty minutes, but he wouldn't get to go outside for tomorrow.

Five years. That was how long he was in here. Five years. Five years here in juvenile hall, then three more years in a regular prison. He could see the looks on everyone's faces but at Third Street now. They were all probably having some sort of massive block party to celebrate him being so far way and for so long. And that party probably was going to last for days. Oh, they must me ecstatic about this. Now they were free of him and his wrath. There was no doubt about it; he heard the loud cheer from the crowd from inside and outside the courtroom and the police truck drove off. But he WAS going to come back one day, that was for damn sure. What he was going to do then, that was yet to be contemplated, but something will happen for being put in this hell hole.

"HEY SCRUB!" Someone yelled. Since there was a lot of people yelling around in the open area, TJ didn't think it was directed towards him. One minute he was sitting down and trying to think of a way to master life in juvie, the next he was being pulled to his feet by his arms and thrown against the wall by two boys, each of them fourteen years old and sporting buzz-cuts. They looked alike, so he assumed they were twins.

"Don't you know when someone's talking to you?" Said another fourteen year old approaching him. He was a full our inches taller than him, and had his thick black hair slicked back. He was big, with muscles that showed exactly how many fights he had been in. With a set of brass knuckles on his fingers and a toothpick between his lips he looked threatening, with or without the muscles. "You're really startin' to piss me off scrub and you haven't even said a word!"

"That's not my problem," TJ said as he started to walk away. He heard a snap of the fingers before he was grabbed by the arms again and dragged to the bottom on the steps. He was stopped in the middle of the open area where a crowd was beginning to form. as the crowd grew the boy with the brass knuckles came face to face with him again. Since he was still being held back by the twins, TJ couldn't walk away like he wanted to.

"You got a real attitude problem, scrub," He said. "You ain't got the RIGHT to have an attitude! How the hell you gonna come in here and talk to me like that? I should fuck you up! Fuck are you in for?"

"That's none of your business!" TJ told him. Who was this kid anyway? He came out of nowhere and was picking a fight, and he hadn't even seen him before! He obviously had too much time on his hands.

"See, he STILL gotta attitude!" The boy said to the crowd. "I just gotta fix it, that's all." He came closer, cracking his knuckles. After giving a crooked smile he raised his fist with the brass knuckles and landed a firm, hard punch on the left side of TJ's face. The sound of it echoed against the wall, and he could feel blood begin to stream down his face. The punch landed just below his eye, and had so much strength behind it that it would put even Spinelli to shame. He couldn't fight because of his arms being held back by two other boys, but even if they weren't he still wouldn't be able to fight back because the punches kept coming to the left side of his face. The crown shouted and yelled when punch after punched caused more and more blood to pour onto his blue jumpsuit, staining it and creating a stark contrast between the light blue and the dark red. He pain alone made his dizzy. A whistle blew and the crowd quickly dispersed and he was let go, only to drop onto his hands and knees.

"The names Tommy Gun, Scrub!" The boys said. "And I'ma keep fucking you up until I'm bored!" Tossing a small towel on the floor he began to walk away from the scene. "Clean yourself up, ain't no one cleanin' after you!"

Opening his eyes, which at this point was an extremely painful endeavor, TJ could see the growing puddle of his blood on the floor. His face throbbed and ached, and he could almost feel it begin to swell. He thought that he must have at least a few cuts to cause all of the blood that would be required to make a puddle that big. He pressed the towel against the left side of his face to stop anymore bleeding to happen. He felt a tap on his shoulder and looked up to see a guard standing next to him signaling to get up. He was lead out of the dormitory and down the hall into a room that looked much like a clinic. A nurse was inside, and the moment she was the blood soaked towel she told him to sit down on the bed.

She cleaned off the dried blood on his face and looked closer at the wounds. TJ winced when he was told that he needed ten stitches and that there were no painkillers for easing the pain. The sharp stinging pain of the stitches being put in intensified the pain he already felt, and he had to get a few redone because the flinching he did cause them to become undone. After an hour the stitches were done and told not to do anything strenuous or that they would come back out and he would have to get them done yet again. After returning the other dorms he saw everyone putting empty tray back on carts in various areas around and knew that he wasn't getting anything to eat until tomorrow. By now, all TJ wanted to do was lay down, and try to ignore the pain. Returning the his room he saw JoJo sitting in his own bed, doing what appeared to be homework.

Not wanting to even talk, TJ layed in his own bed and tried to fall asleep, but his wounds didn't go noticed by his roommate who began to laugh at the first sight of it.

"Oh man," JoJo said laughing. "You got fucked UP! Damn! Did he use the knuckles? Must've 'cause that shit looks like it hurts! Freckles got fucked UP ta'day!" He continued to laugh as TJ tried to ignore him and fall asleep. It was all he wanted to do.

There's going to be a lot of juvenile slang here, but how they're being used should make them easy to understand. If anyone doesn't understand them then tell me and I'll explain it in the next authors note.

RandallXSpinelli: That's how the system is sometimes. You never know if your own lawyer thinks you did it and wants to punish you like everyone else. But is it weird that I want to be a paralegal? :) On the flipside, I have that same difficulty you're having with that game with Zelda games. I tried to play Ocarina of time and it's annoying me. I respect the series and everything, but damn. Maybe I should've started playing Zelda games when I was younger like I did with the Mario series….

Donna Nnov:…anymore? :D Well the first question I have is, why did you think so before? And why not now?

Reviews are appreciated!