EPOV

The sudden flash of bright light startled me out of my fitful slumber. Momentarily blinded by the brightness, I blinked furiously, waiting for my eyes to adjust. Another day in paradise, I thought. Same shit, different cell. I ran my hands through my disheveled hair and then tried to wipe the sleep from my eyes. I figured it was around six a.m., but I couldn't be sure. My watch had been taken away when I was arrested and there was no clock on the sterile, white cinderblock walls of my new cell.

I sat up, cautiously taking in my surroundings for the fist time. It had been lights out already when I had arrived last night and I had nothing to do besides go straight to bed, collapsing from the emotional strain of my sentencing; the emotional strain of watching Bella Swan react to my conviction of murder.

I tentatively pushed the rough sheet and itchy blanket away from my chin, uneasily removing the protective covers, and unfolded myself out of my sorry excuse for a bed. It was just a thin mattress lying on a concrete slab. Evidently the state didn't really care about prisoners' comfort. This was punishment, after all.

My cell was small; I figured it was about eight by eight. The room consisted of the bed, a small desk built into the wall, and a silver toilet/sink combo in one corner. In front of the desk there was a small pillar of concrete rising from the floor, meant to serve as a chair. It wasn't the Ritz, but it was a vast improvement over my home for the last few months.

The Port Angeles jail had felt like Grand Central Station with inmates incessantly streaming in and out; a revolving door of society's losers and derelicts. I always shared a cell with at least three other people and sometimes twice that number. There were only four beds per cell, so I often slept curled up in a corner. It had been important that I not draw attention to myself—placing a young guy like me in a room with hardened criminals was like throwing meat to a pack of hungry wolves . . . growling, starving, predatory wolves.

Understandably I was grateful that I wouldn't be sharing a cell with anyone. After years in group homes and then jail, I had never actually had a room to myself until now. Go figure—it took getting thrown into Juvie to get my own room. Basically my whole life had been spent sleeping with one eye open, in an attempt to protect myself from the monsters who wanted to hurt me. The monsters usually won.

I used the bathroom and brushed my teeth. I sighed at my reflection in the mirror; my hair was freaking all over the place. I hadn't had a haircut since before I was arrested, and it was longer than it had ever been. When I was a little kid, my dad had always kept my hair military style just like his. I hoped they didn't require buzz cuts here, because the last thing I wanted was to be reminded of the man who was responsible for both creating and destroying me.

I slipped my grey prison-issued jumpsuit over my tighty-whities and t-shirt. I snapped the buttons and slipped on my plain sneakers. The clothing and dorky white shoes certainly confirmed my belief that prison was hardly known for its trendy fashion.

I made my bed, taking care to pull the corners tight, smoothing out any wrinkles. Another habit for which I could thank dear ole dad. I scowled at the realization that I had thought of him twice in one day. Enraged, I immediately ripped off the sheets and threw them across the room. "Get the fuck out of my head!" I shouted to no one. I sighed and tried to push away the anger. I just wish I could erase him from my memory; it would make things so much easier. I regretfully glanced at the mess I had created with my fury, and was bothered by the disorder of it all. I silently remade my bed, not stopping until it was perfect.

I didn't have any personal effects, so there was really nothing for me to do until the correctional officers came to get me. Failing to detect a slot in the door for food trays, I figured I would be escorted to breakfast within the hour.

I sat down on the concrete chair and leaned over the desk, resting my head on my hands. I let my mind wander and smiled as I thought about the one thing that brought joy to my life: Bella Swan.

She had moved to Forks back in January. Forks is a small town, and the High School had been all abuzz over the new girl. She had moved from somewhere in Arizona to come live with her dad, the Forks Police Chief. I'd always kept to myself and did not really have many friends, so I didn't allow myself to get swept up in the excitement.

The first time I saw Bella was when she came and sat at my lab table during fifth period Biology. I scowled at her as she sat down; the last thing I needed was some dramatic, high-maintenance girl as my lab partner. Girls were an enigma to me and I always failed miserably when it came to interacting with the female species. I didn't get a good look at her till she sat down. Damn, I groaned to myself. Bella Swan wasn't just any girl; she had to be the most beautiful girl I had ever laid eyes on. This couldn't be good. Not only would I be my normal socially awkward self, but I would probably be drooling all over my shirt like some of the Special Ed kids.

She caught me scowling in her direction when she turned to smile at me. Needless to say, I blew my chance at making a good first impression. She turned away from me, looking hurt and confused. All I could do was put my head on my desk and pray for the class to end quickly.

It took a few days before I worked up the nerve to introduce myself to her. I'm not a man of many words, but I knew it was getting to the point of just being rude as hell. I had to take a chance and speak to the girl; hoping I wouldn't do anything to further embarrass myself.

Surprisingly, once I finally let myself speak to her, I found her rather easy to talk to. We were both shy but seemed to be able to draw each other out somehow. After attempting to discuss shallow, meaningless topics with the garden variety Forks High School airhead, I was pleased that Bella appeared to be my intellectual equal. It was a pleasure to work with her in Bio lab and I really felt we were on the road to becoming friends. She was quite a nice girl and I would be a liar if I didn't admit that I was completely smitten with her. I knew she would never be interested in a kid like me, but a guy could dream, right?

For the first time in a very long time, I was happy about something. And then Port Angeles happened.

The door to my cell opened suddenly, breaking me from thoughts of Bella.

A man in a black correctional officer uniform entered my cell and met my eyes. His hulking form blocked the light from the hallway, and my eyes widened, taking in his size. He was well over six feet tall, with dark curly hair and steely brown eyes. He was built like an NFL player and I felt quite sure he could break me in half with his bare hands.

"Good morning, Mr. Masen and welcome to your first day at Meyer Detention Center. My name is Officer Cullen and I'm in charge of getting you settled in here. I understand you got in rather late last night and didn't have a chance to go through new inmate orientation?"

"Yes sir. I was led straight to my cell."

Officer Cullen glanced down at his clipboard and made a notation.

"Unfortunately they didn't have your paperwork ready last night, so we will need to start from the top. The first thing I'll need to do is search you to make sure you didn't bring any contraband in on your person."

I gasped when I saw him pull out a pair of rubber gloves. Oh God, no, I silently cried as I unconsciously backed away from this giant man. He glared at me and motioned me over to the far wall.

"Masen, I'll need you to remove your clothes and place your hands above your head on the wall. If you cooperate, I promise to make this quick."

I did what he asked and slipped out of the uniform I had just put on. My heart-rate had increased dramatically and I knew I was moments away from having a panic attack. I fought to keep my breathing under control as Officer Cullen ran his hands up my body.

"Back away from the wall and bend over please."

I bent over and closed my eyes, fighting to keep the tears from flowing. I was overcome by the humiliation of having my most private places violated by a complete stranger. The tears were flowing freely now and I was having trouble catching my breath. The officer was true to his word and was finished within a few seconds.

I heard the sound of the gloves being removed and then I felt his hand on my arm.

"It's over now; you can stand up."

I walked over to the bed and sat down, trying to slow my breathing. I quickly wiped the tears from my eyes, feeling utterly disgusted with myself for being so weak. I had lost it in front of a CO., and I hated to think of the laughs he and his fellow officers would share at my expense later. They probably had bets on how quickly they could break the new fish.

I grabbed my clothes and began putting them back on, refusing to meet the Officer's eyes until he spoke again.

"Masen, are you ok?" I could swear he sounded concerned. I paused, not knowing how to answer the question.

"Look, I'm sorry about that. I hate doing it, but sometimes we get some really bad kids in here who will hide drugs and weapons anywhere they can."

I nodded and continued dressing. When I was finished I stood up and walked towards the door. Officer Cullen put out his arm to stop me, shooting me a knowing glance.

"Hey Masen, why don't you take a second and wash your face or something; your eyes are still a little red. Nobody needs to know what happened in here. You're the new kid so I'll give you the heads-up that there are inmates out there who will eat you alive if they see any sign of weakness. There's no need to give them any motivation."

He surprisingly smiled and waited patiently while I blew my nose and wiped my eyes with a cool washcloth. After a few minutes I looked pretty much like my normal self. Officer Cullen led me out the door and into the cafeteria.

Since it was my first day here, Officer Cullen would be spending the day with me, showing me around, telling me all the rules, and getting me settled into Meyer. He sat with me at breakfast and explained how things worked here. Since I was a juvenile I would be required to attend classes during the day to work toward my GED. He had read my file and said that with grades like mine, I could probably sit for the GED whenever I wanted. He informed me that if I was interested I could take some online courses through the local community college. Apparently there had been a few inmates that had received associates degrees while incarcerated and then went on to go to university after being released. He kept stressing to me that Meyer really prided itself as being a place that rehabilitated the boys that came here. "It's not all about punishment here, Mr. Masen," he informed me.

I was starting to feel slightly less tense and panicked about my incarceration. I enjoyed school and felt quite sure I could pass the GED without studying. Soon it would be time for the fall semester to start and I would love nothing more than to take classes. Hopefully college work would be more challenging than mind-numbing high school.

I would be expected to have a job while I stayed here, and it could be anything from working in the cafeteria to filing books in the library. Officer Cullen said he would give me a list of open positions in order to help me find something that would work for me.

There were sports available to play on certain days if I was interested, as well as a television lounge. He mentioned that there was a music room and a volunteer that came one day a week to teach music lessons. I was thrilled to learn there was a piano available. My mother, who was passionate about music, had taught me how to play when I was small. After she died and the state placed me into the foster care system, I rarely had the opportunity to play. I hoped I would be able to continue my lessons here.

Officer Cullen made sure I understood that I had to walk the line and stay out of trouble to gain access to the "fun stuff" available here. He said there was a zero tolerance policy for insubordination of any kind, and he let me know that I would receive demerits for the infractions I committed. For example, if a C.O. overheard me using profanity, I would receive one demerit. I could work off demerits by performing work service around the detention center or going to classes like anger management, etc. If I collected more than twenty-five demerits I would lose privileges, and if I got more than one-hundred then I had to stay in solitary confinement until I was able to work off enough to reenter the general population.

He said that most kids here had no problem keeping out of trouble, but there were a few bad apples and it would be in my best interest to avoid them. He pointed to a kid named James across the cafeteria from us. Apparently James was the juvie badass; the one person I should avoid. "That kid is bad news, Masen. He will only bring you trouble. Stay away from him and whatever you do, don't make him an enemy."

The rest of my day consisted of my entrance medical exam and drug screen. I would be tested randomly, but I wasn't worried since I had never done any drugs. I was deemed medically fit for juvie and then Officer Cullen gave me the grand tour of Meyer Detention Center. We walked through the different cell blocks and classrooms, ending in the visitation room, which consisted of several round tables and chairs where inmates were allowed to meet with their loved ones from the outside. We were permitted visitors for one hour on Wednesdays and Saturdays. I couldn't imagine anyone other than my lawyer ever coming to see me. My last foster mother had her hands full with three other kids, all of whom had behavioral and emotion problems. She had liked me well enough, but I had never allowed our relationship to really blossom into anything deep.

I briefly imagined Bella Swan waiting for me in the visitation room, and my face momentarily brightened at the image. Then I sighed, knowing deep in my soul that my actions that night in Port Angeles may have saved her life, but would keep me from ever really getting to know her. I was sad that I would never see Bella again, but I didn't regret killing those monsters that were going to hurt her. I would kill them a million times over if it meant Bella was safe. As Officer Cullen led me away from the visitation room, I grimly realized that I still had over 1200 days left at Meyer Detention Center.

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