Sorry about the wait folks! College is a ruthless bitch. That's one of the reasons it took so long to do this. The other being me putting in order what I had planned to do for this part of the story down in a way that makes sense, so I'm still working on it in a way.

Let's see here….there should be two more chapters in his first year at Juvenile Hall, not counting this one. Then we start moving forward! The chapters will also get longer to make up for the time in between updates.

Last note, I may or not be posting one-shots. Just one-shots, I'm not starting another story, these are just ideas that pop up in my head, like the one I wrote a while ago with king bob and TJ. I'm not getting distracted. It's the contrary actually. If I get a new idea for a one-shot I find that if I don't write it before it's all I can think about, I lost interest in the story that I'm working on. So there's that.

Read On!

ONE WEEK LATER

"TJ what in the world happened to your face?"

Sitting on one side of a cold gray room at a rickety table to match was TJ. Normally he wouldn't see much more other than his room, the area outside his room, the dried space outside that was called a playground (though it bared little resemblance), and a classroom. But today he saw this room and that was because this was the visitors room, and he had visitors; his parents who were sitting across from him. It took far too long for them to get here in his opinion. What kind of parents waits a week after their kid is dragged out of court to some jail for kids three hours away to visit them? He needed one hell of an excuse for doing that forgive them for it.

The first thing his parents addressed when he came in and sat down was the bruising of his face. The swelling had gone down significantly, but the bruising and stitches were still present. He was still incredibly sore, and took extra steps to make sure nothing came in contact with his face including his worried mother's hand. When she reached out to touch his face in a way most mothers would upon seeing half of their child's face covered in bruises he flicked back, not in pain, but in disgust and anger at his parents.

"I fell down some stairs when I first came here," He lied.

"You fell down some stairs?" His father asked him, not believing his answer.

"Yeah. Those cement floors can do that. Had to get stitches for it, too," TJ said. "Without any pain killers. Hurt like a bitch. Still does."

"I find it hard to believe that you just fell…"

"And I find it hard that this is I the first time you visited," TJ snapped. "It's been a week since I was dragged here. What took you so long to visit?"

"We did come," His mother told him. "Started driving here as soon as we were able to find where this place was. But when we came in to see you they told us that we had to wait a week to visit to let you adjust to everything."

"They said to wait a week?" TJ repeated. "I was going to say that was a bunch of crap but after what I've seen in here I believe it. Well here I am! I haven't eaten in a week, the water is brown, the playground is drier than a desert, and I'm scared to death of dropping the soap for obvious reasons. How are you guys doing? I hope you're doing well."

"You haven't eaten in a week?" His mother asked, shocked with disbelief. "Don't they feed you in here?"

"Yeah but I don't think you can call that food exactly," Said TJ. "I don't think it's edible; it's been sitting in my stomach since I started eating it and it's still there…it's not going anywhere anytime soon."

"I wonder what's in the food here…"

"Lettuce, tomato sauce, grain, beef, chicken, lemon juice for flavor that's not there, and onions," TJ told his parents. "And I's all squeezed into a block and served with stale jell-o, and stale water. My roommate had kitchen duty and he told me what was in the food…"

"How are you and your roommate getting along?" His father asked him. "You aren't fighting with him are you?"

"We're not fighting. He barely even talks to me," He said. "I dunno if you would call that getting along. Am I REALLY here until I'm twenty-one? I'm going crazy in here! You know what I did yesterday? When we went outside for what I guess I supposed to be recess I ran around the fence the entire time. Without stopping. And I don't know why!"

"That should be a good thing," Said his father. "At least you're still getting exercise."

"Thanks, Dad," TJ said though clenched teeth. "Nice to have your support especially after A WHOLE FUCKING WEEK of not hearing from you." Letting out a sigh he let his temper go down before continuing the conversation. "Have you heard anything from Principal Prickly?"

"Your principal?" His mother asked. "No. Why?"

"He said he would visit me when I came here," Said TJ. "He promised me when I spent the night at his house."

"Well I sure he's very busy TJ," His mother told him. "Running a school takes a lot of time."

"Mm-hmm…" He mumbled. Seconds later a bell signaling the end of visitation rang. With a hug from his mother they promised to visit him again as soon as they can, but part of him didn't believe them. No phone call or anything for a week since he arrived? That didn't seem like a good clue to them visiting him anytime soon.

Stepping back into the dorms he watched as the other kids who had visitors as well scatter to their respective places. Everyone had their own place and their own friends that they hung-out with every day, except him of course. He didn't want to become close to anyone in here. From his experience with his old group, those people who you call your friends eventually get used to what you do from them and become greedy and ungrateful of what you do. Then they start to EXPECT you to do it as if it's not a burden. That was part of the reason he started pranking them as well as everyone else. The guys thought that those pranks were easy to come out with, and requested over and over again for them to prank someone that the group didn't like. Soon he didn't like them, and they were no longer off limits. Obviously they didn't like that they were the victims of his onslaught, and they broke up. He may have been able to prank anyone as he pleased, but he also lost the availability of their special abilities, and he didn't want to go through that again. But TJ was getting off course with his thoughts. There we're bigger issues at hand: getting to know about everyone in here without befriending them.

He considered spying, but after seeing a sentence that was scrapped into one of the walls his second day there, he chose not to. The sentence read "Snitches get Stitches," and he had enough stitches to deal with as it is. That, and it seemed to Randall-ish for his taste. The only other way he could think of was using the few little accessories the others were wearing to guess a little about their personality. One kid had on a pair of green goggles with a black swirl on each lens; TJ thought that one might be a geek. Another wore a pair of fingerless gloves and the top half of his jumpsuit down with a white tee shirt; he thought that kid was a fighter. He tried to do the same analysis on JoJo to find something but came up empty. The two of them barely talked to one another, and TJ thought that he would be a good place to start.

"Hey let go of me! You're pulling to hard!"

Snapping out of his thoughts, TJ looked up from his seat on the cement floor to see a boy being dragged by his feet by two guards. The boy had his arms handcuffed behind his back, making the experience more painful and it looked as if there were heading towards a locked door that he hadn't seen anyone enter since he arrived.

"LEMME GO! LEMME GO! I AIN'T DO NOTHIN'!" The boy yelled. The guards ignored his pleas and continued to drag him. Once they were through the door, it was shut, and the screaming couldn't be heard anymore. At that moment TJ thought back to what he was told when he first came here.

"If you wake up one day and decide to do 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."

Maybe that kid was being taken to one of those rooms for doing something. He didn't have time to ponder that thought because a familiar feeling swept over him.

He first felt this feeling on the fourth day, and it was this feeling that made him want to get out of juvie, one way or another. It was strange, and he had hoped that it would go away on its own but it has only gotten stronger. He could put an exact word to it, but it could be best described as paranoia. One moment he felt like bugs were crawling all over his skin when there were none, and the next he could swear he was being constantly watched by a sort of 'Big brother' figure. The walls appeared to be closing in and the space was getting smaller and there seemed to be less and less air. He knew that these ideas were false, but that didn't stop those thoughts from creeping into his head. He hated it; it made him feel weak and helpless and he didn't like that all. Thinking that someone was out to get him installed fear, and fear distracted him from his goals. The feeling of having no power irritated him to no end. TJ was beginning to think he was going crazy, but a quick nap would put his brief paranoia to rest.

Stepping into his room, he saw that JoJo was lying in his top bunk, reading an unmarked book. Not saying a word, TJ laid down in his own bed and closed his eyes. He wasn't anywhere close to where he wanted to be on the Juvie food chain. He was still on the bottom; a 'scrub' as everyone put it. He knew that he had to move up and quick or else he would always be at the bottom. But how? He needed advice from someone on top (or not on the bottom at all) on how they moved, however he was damn sure that he couldn't walk up to them and say, "hey, can you give me a few tips on not being a scrub?"

Tired, he thought of anyway he could get close enough to anyone there without them knowing. He was closet to JoJo, solely on the fact that they were roommate and saw each other naked on more than one occasion, but that didn't count. Taking a chance he turned on his side and spoke up.

"Hey can I ask you something?" He asked JoJo.

"Wha' is it, Freckles?" JoJo asked with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"How do you stand being in here?" TJ asked him. "It's been a week and I can't stand it! I'm ready to break out of here! But you've been in here longer and you seem so calm about everything." The boy above him let out a long sigh before answering.

"Lemme tell ya somethin' Freckles. Are you listening?"

"Yeah."

"Juvie is a 'lil jail, a'ight? It's a place where adults send kids that dey know can take down society in a single flash. An' dey don't like that. So dey bring us 'ere, and keep us 'ere, treating us like we killed da president. They don't give a damn about us here! The guards treat us like shit, the food tastes like shit, parents don't give a shit once 'sha here, and ya life becomes a big pile of steaming shit to society. Once sha in 'ere you gotta do whateva it takes to survive or you ain't gonna make it. An the damn thing about it is, half of us don't even belong 'ere. You know why I'm 'ere? I'm here cause I shot the kids who were gonna try and kill me an my 'lil brother. I ain't do nothing to provoke 'em, but they felt 'da need to kill me and my brother 'cause we're black. I defend 'em, and I'M the one that got in trouble; for shootin' them when dey were after us wit baseball bats. Do I belong 'ere? NO. I should be wit my 'lil brother at home, Tommy Gun should be wit his family….but no one'll listen, cause dey know we can change da world if we 'ere out dere. Shit, dey were probably plannin' on puttin' us all in here years before we came! And we all know dat you leave 'ere a different person than what we came in as. So ya wanna know wha' we do to survive? We change ourselves; become a different person. Leave ya' old self at the door 'cause if you don't that person is gonna die a long and painful death. That's my ansa to ya' question."

"…..become a different person?" TJ repeated. "How?"

"Do I need to tell you everything?" JoJo asked, frustrated after his rant. "You know wha'? Just sit on the floor."

"What?"

"Sit on da floor," JoJo said again after grabbing a few small bottles of his shelf and walking to the sink. "I'm tryin' to help your ass out. Sit on the floor Freckles, fuck." Grumbling under his breath, TJ reluctantly sat on the floor with his back against his bed. What was this guy up to? He barely says anything and then all of a sudden he goes off like that? And what was doing now? Peeking over TJ saw him pouring the contents of the various bottles in the sink and mixing them into the water. Smelling something sharp and metallic he turned back around. Before he had the chance to ask what was in the sink he felt the bed shake as JoJo sat right behind him with a small container and a paintbrush in hand.

"A'ight, don't finch. If ya do I'ma mess up," He said, coming through TJ's hair with his hands.

"Whoa, what are you doing?" TJ asked him, whipping his head around to face him.

"Chill the fuck out, ok?" JoJo told him. "I'm doin' you a favor. Turn back around." Wary of what he was up to, TJ still turned around. He didn't have much, so there wasn't anything to lose in letting JoJo doing whatever he was up to. He Felt JoJo push his head down and begin to use the paintbrush to put the substance that was in the container on his hair. Slowly, it moved to the top of head and around the edges until it was completely in his hair. The smell from his was strong, and had a metallic hint to it. The fumes were making it hard to breathe, and he started to think that his was an attempt by JoJo to kill him until the boy stood up and tossed a bottle of shampoo to him.

"Go take shower and watch it out," He said. "And wash ya ass too. You stink."

'First he says he's helping me and then he tells me I stink,' TJ thoughts as he made his way to the showers. 'What's his deal?' Stepping in to the communal showers he saw that now one was in there. Soon he was under the showerhead with the best water pressure rinsing off the strange solution in his hair. He had no idea what it was supposed to do, but he just didn't want his hair to fall out. As messy and unruly has he often kept it, he did like his hair. He just didn't like combing and washing it. Throwing one towel around his waist and another across his shoulders to catch the falling water still in his hair he walked back to his room. Entering he saw JoJo sitting back on his own bed, reading. Catching sight of him, a smile grew on JoJo's face.

"I ain't think it would work," JoJo said. "But there it is. Ya' welcome."

"Welcome? For what?"

"You still dunno? Look in the mirra." After sending JoJo a look of anger, TJ turned around and faced the mirror hanging on the wall. Seeing what was staring back at him, he dropped everything he had brought to the showers to wash. Bringing his now shaking hands to his head he ran his fingers through his hair to make sure that it was him the mirror and not some strange effect of the lighting that he couldn't explain. It was him alright. And no longer was his hair the soft chestnut color he was fond off. Now it was a very light, very noticeable blonde.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY HAIR?" He yelled.

"Are you retarded? I bleached it, obviously…"

"CHANGE IT BACK!"

"First of all, I dunno who you yellin' at 'cause it certainly ain't me," Said JoJo as he walked out of the room. "Don't forget that yo'ass is still a scrub, Scrub. Stop your bitchin'." Running is fingers through his hair, TJ hoped the action would somehow restore his natural color but it didn't work. He stared at the mirror, looking at the almost unrecognizable person staring back at him.

Um, I'm getting really good at managing my time with school work which allowed me to update this so soon. So maybe I can find a way to update at least once a week.

Donna Nnov:….ah, yes; JoJo. I actually based him off of an old friend of mine. :) I'm glad you as well as RandallXSpinelli like him. I didn't think anyone would like him at all. As far as anything happening with him, we'll just have to wait and see. :)

RandallXSpinell: Yeah about the Chinese food….I kind of feel bad for saying this so soon but I think it's necessary to clear things up; the kids didn't sneak the food in, the guard did it. He two kids fought because the guards MADE them fight and the one who won got the food as a prize. D: Horrible I know. And the teacher thing was completely random. At the moment when I was typing that part I flashed back to the math class I had last semester and how, as an English major, I believes it serves me no purpose other than numbering page even though I know it's important…

Please Review! Those keep me going!