Oh folks, are you in a good mood? Are you feeling so sun shining happy? Well then I suggest you don't read this chapter; it's kind of depressing…

I had to draft, re-draft, re-draft again to create this chapter because I wanted it to be just perfect. I hope it is. It was worth it though. Just look at the massive size of this bitch. Ugh. I'm never doing a chapter this big EVER again. Maybe a one-shot but that's different.

This chapter gets a little confusing as time goes. I tried to keep it was simple as possible. This chapter takes place three months after the last chapter, and TJ's now 14 years old, but that'll be explained in the chapter.

Go Forth….and Read On!

THREE MONTHS LATER

~*~D~*~

Journal,

I didn't mean to…I swear to God. I didn't mean to. It was an accident….but there was so much blood everywhere. On me…it was everywhere…

~*~D~*~

The visitor's room was loud with silence. The large and thick rain pounding on the building from outside only added to the dreary and depression atmosphere of the room. The gray paint and flickering lights didn't help any, just made it worse. Every few second a drip from the water seeping through the cracked ceiling and landing in a conveniently placed bucket, preventing a puddle from forming on the floor. While all those around him talked to those that were visiting him, TJ struggled to think of something to say. When was the last time someone had visited him? A month? That was the longest, most grueling month of his life.

He hadn't heard a word from his parents since their first visit, even when he tried to call them. They never picked up, but with recent events he didn't expect them to. He was sure his friends had ripped his letters to shreds, refusing to acknowledge his existence. Again, he didn't blame them; he was sure if he was in their shoes, he would do the same. The only person from the outside he did have contact with was his principal. TJ thought the man must be crazy to still talk to him after what was in the news. But he was here visiting him, just like he promised, and he was thankful for that.

Words weren't exchanged between the two of them when he was brought in and Principal Prickly understood why. Words didn't need to be said for that. He knew he would just have to wait for his former student to talk on his own; sorting through all of his thoughts took time and that was all he could give.

TJ sighed, wanting to say something, but not knowing what. He wanted to talk as much as he could. Talking meant he didn't have to think, and not having to think meant he didn't have to listen to Alex. Mr. Simmons said Alex would go away, but he only had gotten stronger. Taking a deep breath, he spoke up for the first time. Visiting time only lasted for an hour, and he already wasted twenty minutes.

"I killed him."

~*~FLASHBACK: TWO MONTHS AGO~*~

A new, but strange normal settled into TJ's life. He didn't sleep as much as he would've liked any more, but he had friends, or the closest thing to it. Every day was the same; breakfast, school, lunch and cards, time outside, school, dinner, time outside, cards, a bath, then sleep. He got to sleep up to ten hours each night during the week, but he still felt as if that wasn't enough. He wanted to sleep all the time if that was possible without risking starvation, but he had to socialize.

He got to know the boys JoJo introduced him too, but he didn't want to get too close. Any day they could decide to 'quit' and kill themselves. He had enough pain of his own to deal with; he didn't need any more coming from friends dying.

Staying up and playing cards with the guys was the best part of his day until it was ruined by the happenings of Suicide September. It wasn't just a name or a joke shared among the inmates. He learned that it was legitimate about every other day or two.

Good God, how many ways could there possibly be to kill yourself? He heard of a few, but the kids here were creative. They did it ways he couldn't have thought of. But why couldn't they do it in their own rooms, away and out of sight from anyone else?

One kid jumped off the rail of the upper rooms with a noose around his neck. The guards ran up to get him before he jumped, but they didn't run fast enough. He jumped and fell ten feet before the rope snagged and snapped his neck, killing him instantly. Everyone saw it. It was so quiet when he jumped. It was almost as if you could actually hearhis neck snap.

Another was more ambitious; he wanted to go out with style. TJ hadn't seen him before, but he looked like the oldest kid in there. He always minded his business, never said a word to anyone, never got in trouble. A guard passed him one day, and he jumped up and grabbed his gun out of the holster. Everyone watched, thinking that he was going to start shooting the guard and forgetting that it was Suicidal September. The gun didn't point at the tan shirt of the guard, but at the head of the boy. With one loud resounding BANG the gun was fired, and bullet went through his head and out the other end. Blood was splattered everywhere and the gray matter that was his brain oozed out of the hole from the bullet. He was dead before he hit the floor.

That wasn't the most creative way the inmates choose to tell God 'Fuck You.' There was a large rainstorm passing through and the roof was leaking, creating puddles on the floor. TJ thought that this inmate wanted to one-up the last one because this one grabbed the Taser gun from another guard instead of the normal gun. The Taser gun alone wasn't enough to do much past stunning someone for an instant. But it doesn't take a genius to figure out that electricity and water do not mix. The inmate turned it on, and dropped it into the puddle he was standing it. He jolted and shook where he stood, electricity filling the air making the room thick with horror. Smoke came from under his clothes as the smell of burning flesh spread over the dorms. Once the battery died all that was left was burned and unrecognizable carcass.

What was wrong with just doing something simple? Whatever happened to the simple cutting of the neck or hanging from a ceiling fan by a rope? Or was it that the way they did it was the only way? It scared him. No, it horrified him to see kid after kid kill themselves day after day. It hurt to see, but it became easier to see as time passed. It became so frequent that he expected it to happen and he became numb to seeing people in front of him drop dead.

Then there was the freak accident.

Boredom overcame everyone one day, and though TJ couldn't see who started it, someone started to throw food during breakfast. It became a food fight within seconds. As punishment everyone had to clean up the dorms on an empty stomach. Not only that, but they were forced to work outside in the blazing sun breaking rocks with pickaxes next to the road without any water for three hours. Kids were dropping like flies from thirst. They were allowed a ten minute break every hour, but that didn't help much. One kid who was just a few feet away from him dropped his pickaxe in the road and sat down to take his break. TJ was going to take his break too, but he chose against it and was now glad he did. A car drove by and ran over the pickaxe at just the right angle to send it up in the air and flying. And it flew. It flew across the road and through that kid's neck taking his head off with it. His severed head rolled right in front of TJ's feet. But could you really call that a suicide? It was an accident, but it still left him disturbed. No; disturbed was too gentle of a word to describe it.

What really pushed him over the edge happened the next day. They were, again, breaking rocks just as they do in the movies. One kid who did talk to anyone and minded his own business decided to make a run for it. He ran far and faster than the guards could keep up. Everyone was cheering for him, hoping that he would make it past the fence and into freedom. Then the guard blew his whistle and the dogs were let out. It wasn't enough to simply stop the escapee. Those dogs were vicious. They latched onto his arms, legs and torso and ripped him to shreds. That…that was just cruel.

He stopped talking after the one kid was beheaded in front of him. Not because someone made him stop, but because he couldn't find the right words for anything after seeing that. He still answered questions that were asked of him in class and by those around him, but the answers were usually a 'yes' or a 'no.' There was no reason to talk anyways; no one was there to listen, so he might as well save his energy for something else. TJ figured that he should get used to seeing death, too. He was here until he turned 18; that's another five year seasons of Suicide September. Plenty of people were going to kill themselves between now and then, and being sensitive to it wasn't going to help him get through it.

But what does it feel like? He asked himself that question each time someone body was carried off in a white bag. They got to leave this hell hole. They got to have all the stress and guilt and pain of everyday life lifted off of their shoulders. They didn't have to feel like shit anymore, or deal with having no visitors. And they got to sleep forever. That's what TJ bet it felt like, falling asleep. He looked one inmate in the eyes just before what he did took over and took his life. He looked like he was falling asleep. A peaceful sleep too. He could go for one of those.

Picking up the cards that he was dealt, TJ looked them over. A bad hand; how ironic? Just like everything else.

'Okay, I gotta get some more cards and lose some of these..' TJ thought. 'Okay…let's see…'

"Freckles, you got the worse poka face," JoJo teased. "I'ma 'bout to kick all y'alls asses."

"I ain't losing again," Said Bandit. "That's bullshit. I think JoJo's cheating!"

"Ain't nobody cheatin'. Stop hatin'." JoJo said. "What you NEED to be worryin' about is Freckles. He hasn't been sayin' anything for a while. Bet he's got somethin' going on."

There wasn't much going on in his head except playing the game with the cards that was dealt to him.

There were times that he thought back to when he sent the letter to his former friends. They still hadn't mailed back. He wanted to hope that they were thinking of something to say, or that the letter had somehow gotten lost in the mail. Anything that would excuse them for not replying back other than them refusing to do so. He wanted to believe that, but knew it wouldn't be the truth. The chance of ever hearing from those guys were long gone. When he was scheduled to be released, they would likely be off at college. If not, once the word gets out about him being back in town, everyone would run for the hills like death was after them.

TJ wondered how he was going to keep himself occupied until then. Cards were fun and all, but it'll only keep his mind busy for a while. After that, then what? It's not like there was a lot to do around here besides exist. He thought about how the guys in front of him made it as long as they did. JoJo was here since he was ten years old; he must've done something to keep himself from going stir crazy for the last three years. Or was he just used to it all? The tedious tasks, doing the same thing each and every single week for years without question…..they're just begging for everyone to go crazy in here…

For now TJ was thankful that he wasn't in those white rooms anymore. Any longer in there and he would've gone buck-fucking-crazy like in the movies. At least in the dorms your around people, just not by yourself for 23 hours a day. Being alone with your thoughts for too long can be a dangerous thing. He learned that from being alone with Alex.

Ah, yes. Alex. That little ass-munch is still there. Just staring with that damn smile on his face annoying the shit out of him. TJ didn't care what Mr. Simmons said about Alex. The little fucker is still here and wasn't going away anytime soon. He just wanted to take a knife to the bastard's chest and inflict death upon the demon-boy. But in all seriousness, can no one else REALLY see him? REALLY? Was this one of those things that you can only see if you believe it's there?

'Or am I just fucking crazy?' TJ asked himself. 'Probably.'

Probably was the answer to most of the questions he had lastly. Were his parents never coming to visit him again? Probably. Was he going to see enough suicides to write a Stephen King novel? Probably? Was Alex going to keep being a little cocksucker? Probably. Was he going to have a bad day and accidently drop the soap? Most likely. Was he going to try to kill himself? Probably. The option definitely was still on the table. This place was depressing, so who wouldn't think of that as an option for an easy escape? It was viable, and only took some thinking. But he wasn't going to let everyone else win. At least for now. Until then, he wanted to focus on this game.

"Freckles ain't got shit," JoJo hissed. "Ain't got shit, ain't got shit. You ain't got shit Freckles! I'ma 'bout to kick your cracker ass! Just watch…"

"Looks like they're sending everyone in the white rooms to the new building," Specs said pointing to the guards who were leading a line on inmates from the white rooms outside. "They're done building it early."

"Good. They're right under my room," Said Box. "Now I can get some sleep for once…."

"A new building?" TJ asked, speaking for the first time in weeks. "For what?"

"For all the crazies, duh," Said JoJo. "Oh, right you weren't here. Ok, listen. Are you listenin'? All those crazy motha fuckas are getting their own building to stay in. It's bigger than the twenty rooms they got in 'ere. Away from us too. They gonna use those rooms 'ere for solitary confinement for the extra dangerous inmates now. 'bout time. BAM!" He said setting down his cards. "I just won!"

"DETWEILER!" One of the guards called. Looking over his shoulder TJ saw that he was being waved to come over. He put his cards down and walked over. Without an explanation as to why, he was handcuffed and put into line with the others heading to the new building. Sighing, he knew what this meant; another round of alone time. How long was it going to be this time around? A week? A month? More? He wondered if kids in the white rooms committed suicide as well. It seemed like they would; they had to be crazy to get in the white rooms in the first place.

The new building was a five minute walk away from the other buildings. The halls smelled of the chemicals that was used to clean it just hours before it was finished. It was two stories tall. He presumed one floor was for the girls and the others for the boys. Looking ahead and behind him he saw that there were at least thirty other kids with him, all carrying the tired and worn out look across their faces in the form of bags under their eyes and a blank emotionless stare into oblivion. The guards led them to the second floor rooms, putting one inmate in each room.

"NO! I'M NOT GOING BACK IN THERE!" TJ looked ahead an saw the next inmate in line refusing to go into his room. He pulled against the two guards that were trying to get him to go into his room, but the boy wasn't giving up anytime soon. With a few twists of his arm he was free and bolted towards the stairs to try and escape. The guards blew a whistle and in seconds two men in white came out of nowhere and tackled the boy, sticking a syringe in his arm and injecting a tranquiller. After he stopped struggling to get free the men in white put him into a straitjacket and tossed him into his room. They didn't leave after that was done. Instead, they followed the guards as they gave each inmate their room.

Before he could react in any way, TJ had his own handcuffs taken off and put into his own room, just as white as the last. Or maybe even whiter; it definitely was brighter, and the cushions on the floor and walls were fluffier. A low buzzing sound came from the single light in the ceiling. But the doors were different. These doors were made out of glass.

"Wouldn't that be dangerous?" TJ asked himself. "What am saying? If its glass then I can break it and get out…" Tapping it, he tried to get an idea of how thick it was, but found something that would shatter his plan to break it. "Acrylic. Perfect….I can't break acrylic glass…."

Sitting down on the plush floor, TJ sighed and gave up on that idea. Even if it was regular glass, he wouldn't have been strong enough to break it. Looking through the door he could see the inmate across from him who was the one who tried to escape. He must have had experience in doing so, because in mere seconds he was able to get out of the straitjacket he was put in. TJ watched as he walked to his door and started to bang on it with both fists. The door didn't budge at all. The rooms weren't completely silent; TJ could hear some of the things going on in the rooms beside him as well at the BOOMs coming from the room in front of him. The sounds of yells and screams begging to be let out of his fellow inmates filled his ears as he laid down on the soft floor.

He had never felt so small.

~*~U~*~

Jumping up and out of his sleep from the loud knock on his door, TJ looked to see who it was who woke him; the guards, as usual. He made is way over on shaky footing and waited for the door to be unlocked so he could get in line with the other inmates. He wondered what they would be doing this time: eating or bathing? Everything was sporadic and nothing was constant. There wasn't a schedule like in the regular dorms, so he couldn't guess what you would be doing the next time the guards came to get him. At first he tried to find the daily routine. He expected it to be the same as before; get taken out three times a day to eat and once to take a bath. Now it was more like the guards only took them out when they felt like taking them out. That meant the inmates would go days with only one meal and even skip days for baths. Hell, there were times where they wouldn't let them do either for days on end. It didn't help at all that the blaring lights where constantly on preventing any form of adequate sleep. The most sleep TJ received in one sitting was for an hour. After an hour he was up for at least five more, so he was constantly tired and drowsy making thinking clearly extremely energy consuming and tiring. He became confused and disoriented from the insomnia, spending days just staring at the white walls with a blank mind and only moving when he was lucky enough to have a guard come and get him to eat or bathe. Don't even bring up the issue of using the bathroom.

You had to be on the guard's good side when you asked them to do that, and no one knew what their 'good side' was. TJ thought that it meant being reduced to a incoherent, obedient, broken shell of your former self because those were the only kids who managed to get out before they soiled themselves. He seen it happen a few times to the kids he could see from his door; he could definitely smell it. Even then, the guards didn't have enough mercy to let them out and clean themselves up. As for himself, TJ learned how to fake being the kind of inmate the guards let out to use the bathroom. Fake it 'til you make it, right?

Whenever he did have enough strength to think and sit up on his own, TJ watched the inmate in front of him. That kid was always doing something whether it be banging his fists on the walls or trying to rip and tear the plush material off of it. He was determined too, never missed a day of doing it. One day that kids noticed TJ looking at him. He didn't do anything at first, but after a couple days he sat down in front of his door and stared right back. He didn't look scared or like he was going to do anything; he just looked with confusion on his face.

They tried to communicate by tapping on the door, a sort of Morse code. When that didn't work out so well they blew steam onto the glass with their breath and wrote out messages. Doing that kept them occupied during the day (whenever the day was; none of them had seen the sun in God knows how long) and kept them from going crazy at least for a little while. TJ found out that the name of the kid across from him was Johnny and that he was 14 and been here since he was 9. TJ didn't want to know what I kid would do that would be so bad that they would be sent here at 9 years old, do he didn't ask. For the day, they mostly talked about random topics. Johnny was really interested about life outside of Duval and since TJ came there relatively recently he was able to tell him what it was like. When there wasn't much left to talk about they played games, mostly tic-tac-toe. It always ended in a tie.

TJ didn't think anything too exciting could happen while he was in the new white rooms. He'd seen a few kids get manhandled, Johnny included, but knew that if you stayed in line and didn't question anything the guards would mostly leave you alone in your room.

One day when the two boys were playing yet another game of tic-tac-toe, Johnny seemed distant; well, more distant than usual, so TJ asked him why. Johnny just shook his head and walked deeper into his room and didn't talk for the next few days. With his history of behavior, TJ was worried but there wasn't anything he could do from twenty feet and two doors away, so he waited for Johnny to come around on his own. He finally did a week later and when TJ asked him what was the matter Johnny sighed, blew hot air onto the glass door, and wrote out a simple three-word message.

I Love You

Taken back by the message, TJ didn't know what to think. Sure, the guy was cute, and from what they talked about he was sort of….quirky for lack of better words. Yes, he did like boys. He liked girls too, but leaned more towards his own gender. He discovered that about halfway through fifth grade, but didn't tell anyone. It was none of their business. But Johnny looked like a nice kid who just had enough of life here. TJ could see in his eyes that all he wanted was to be able to go outside and breath, see the sun, and to just live. But he was starved of that and was slowly wasting away. A tap on the opposite door brought him out of his thoughts, and he could see Johnny was waiting for him to answer back. But what could he say?

I Love You Too.

Despite their lack off contact or verbal communication, TJ could only pin one word to how he felt about him. If it wasn't love then he didn't know what it was. Even if it was a simple crush, or just juvenile puppy love, he wanted to hold on to that because Johnny was the close relationship he had with anyone in juvie. Smiling, Johnny replied by pressing his lips against the glass in a way to 'share' a kiss. TJ did the same thing and even though they were ten feet apart, the both of them hadn't felt that close to a person for too long of a time. Hearts were drawn on the glass as well as a dozen 'I love you's' between them, and it was as if they each found their own little slice of heaven in hell. That, like everything else, didn't last long and it was how TJ learned one of the hardest rules of juvie.

A while passed, and Johnny was becoming distant again. Like before TJ gave him space, hoping that he would come around and talk on his own. The time seemed to pass much slower when that happened, and TJ felt uneasiness in the air. When Johnny came around this time he had tear in his eyes, an wrote 'I love you' again. TJ replied with an 'I love you too,' like many times before, but wanted to know why he was crying. Johnny only wrote 'It's not because of you, so don't feel guilty.' TJ didn't know exactly what he meant by that, but had an idea and didn't want to risk that idea being right. Johnny stood up and walked to very back of his room. Frantically banging on the door, TJ tried to get him to come back and talk, but he didn't instead, Johnny mouthed the words 'I love you' with tears streaming down his face. Wiping the tears away he mouthed 'I love you, TJ. Thank you for listening to me when no one else wouldn't.' TJ watched as Johnny closed his eyes and ran head first into the glass door. He hit the door at an awkward angle, forcing his neck to bend and twist in a way that made it snap, killing him instantly. He fell to the floor, and didn't get back up. Horrified, TJ still banging on the door and begged for him to get up. Guards heard the noise and found the boy. He was soon taken away, leaving the room and TJ's heart empty. He cried tears of blood (from his left eye, a side effect of the scaring) for days on end after that and learned the hardest lesson to be learned about juvie.

Never get too close to anyone; it'll only break your heart.

He reminded everyday that he woke up and saw the empty room across to not get close to the people in there. They could do anything; backstab you, steal your stuff, or worse, they could make you fall in love with them. That wasn't a problem, because there wasn't anyone else to get close to while he was there. Hell, he didn't want to be close to anyone anymore, but that was mostly the guards fault.

After Johnny killed himself, TJ became a little jumpy and agitated as a result. He just missed their conversations and the time they spent together. It was weird, almost like withdrawal from a drug. Or maybe it was from having now physical contact with anyone for….how long was it at this point? Three weeks? Since he was jumpy and a somewhat scatterbrained, it was noticed by the guards who promptly took action. TJ wished he knew that it would happen if he didn't downplay his behavior, but he was to distracted with his own thoughts to realize.

One day he was standing in line, waiting like the others for the guards together up the rest of the inmates to eat or bathe. He was more jumpy that day than usual. One of the guards took notice, and waved for one of the men in white to come over. Too wrapped up in his own mind to notice, TJ almost jumped out his skin when they approached him with a needle. He tried to pull away from their grasp by kicking a screaming, but they pinned him to the floor and injected him with the needle. Right away he felt a wave of warmth shoot through his arm and then the rest of his body. The rooms started to spin, colors became dull, and the world was shrinking. He felt his arms being tied down by what he would later find out to be a straitjacket, and dragged back into his room, the loud slam of his door shutting echoing against the walls.

That was the norm.

Whenever the tranquilizer wore off and TJ was jumpy, and crying again, the men in white were ready with another needle to inject him with. He hated it. He was in a constant drug-induced stupor, making incoherent sentences and jumbled words, rambling on for hours, sometimes day about something he didn't understand himself. Whenever they came in again to give him more he tried to back away to avoid it, but he was always cornered with nowhere to run. Begging was useless. He even cried a few times because he didn't want it to happen. The men in white didn't care; they just gave him the tranquilizer, made sure the straitjacket was on properly, and left. If he was lucky, they would take the jacket off and let him stretch his arms. He could understand now why Johnny would kill himself after years of this. Being dead was better.

Occasionally they would run out of the tranquilizers and he was off of it for a while, and as a result he suffered withdrawal symptoms. A rapid heartbeat, racing thoughts to match, dizziness, and nausea became his new focus. When that happened, TJ and the other inmate who were drugged on a regular basis were taken to perform kitchen duty, preparing and cooking the food of the inmates and cleaning up after. Since of many of them were hungry, he had seen plenty of them dig through the scraps of what was left and eat what they could; he did it himself on occasion. A kid has to eat, doesn't he? Desperate times call for desperate measures. One of those times he was washing the dishes with five others after preparing to food. The boy next to him snuck a knife in his pocket. A few others did as well. TJ followed suit, and took a two inch knife and put it in his pocket. He wasn't going to use it, but knew it would come in handy if need be.

Fortunately for him, the times between injections increased and he was slowly weaned of the tranquilizer, minimalizing the withdrawal. It was the one thing TJ was thankful for while he was there. For a few days he wasn't given anything at all, and after that, a guard came for him and brought him back to the normal dorms. He winced his eyes during the five minute walk; he hadn't seen the sun in….how long he was in there. The guards didn't tell them what day it was, so he was unsure of exactly how long it's been.

Once he was inside the dorms, TJ looked around. He spent most of his time in a little room. Now he was back in a comparatively large space. It was…..nice. He headed up the stairs to his room, just to make sure it wasn't taken. Luckily it wasn't. JoJo was there, on the top bunk reading.

"It's about time you came back," JoJo said to him. "It's been six weeks."

"…..six weeks…?"TJ said, confused. "That long?...wait, what day is it?"

"…..the 16th."

"THE 16th?" He repeated. "Oh, man. My birthday was nine days ago…guess I'm fourteen now…."

"Happy birthday," said JoJo, less than enthusiastically. "C'mon, let's go play cards." Nodding, TJ followed JoJo out the room and to the table occupied by the other boys. With a sigh of relief, TJ sat down to enjoy something he was familiar with.

The day went by as it would if he wasn't in the white rooms. Playing cards with JoJo and his friends with the occasional joke to lighten the mood. It made a world of difference to TJ who was either drugged or staring at the wall for the last six weeks. Six whole weeks. Most of which were probably through tranquilizers. But it was over with now and he didn't have to think about it anymore.

Sitting down at the table after eating dinner, TJ wanted to lay his head down and go to sleep. The lighting there was much dimmer than the bright lights in the white rooms and it caused him to become sleepy. But he forced himself to stay awake and wait until lights out. But that didn't stop and yawn from escaping him.

"Tired, Freckles?" JoJO asked as he and the others approached.

"Mmm-hmm," TJ told him. "Really tired. But I'm not going to sleep yet…"

"Don't' go sleep yet, I need you guys to help me build something," Specs said, holding a four foot metal pipe in his hands. "See this? I'm making it into a pipe bomb."

"Isn't that why you were put here in the first place?" Asked Bandit.

"No. I'm here because I bought uranium from the Russians and sold half of it to some guys in Iran to pay for the other stuff I needed," Specs said. "It was for a good cause; those guys in Iran said they were revolutionaries…" As the others continued their conversations, TJ thoughts about how much he missed interacting between other people. Lack of any human contact could drive a person crazy he knew that from experience. He was grateful that he had someone to talk to in juvie now.

Right as he was about to jump in to the conversation, TJ felt someone pull him by the back of his jumpsuit and drag him across the floor. He tried to get up, but that was hard to do whilst being dragged. The others stopped talking and followed as well as the other inmates. Once he was stopped, TJ turned to see that the person who had dragged him was one of the guards and he was taken to the middle of the open area. Across from him, another guard had dragged another inmate. Suddenly, he realized what was happening. It was the same thing he saw when he first came here; the guards made the inmates fight for fast food.

'The food here might be disgusting, but I'm not fighting for fast food," TJ thought to himself. He was exhausted, mentality drained, and just wanted to do what he wanted to do. He didn't have it in him to fight, not like he wanted to or anything. It was just that after seeing id after kid kill themselves he didn't want to be exposed to any more violence. The guards told them both to fight, and to TJ's surprise, the other boy refused to fight as well. Both guards went up to their respective inmates and started to talk to them.

"Look kid, just beat that kid up over there and it'll be all over," Said the guard. "You'll even get some food from the outside for doing it."

"No," TJ said. "It isn't right. Don't you have anything better to do than watch us fight each other?"

"Listen you little bastard, I work 16 hour shifts here with you little shits. If I want to get entertained by a bunch of delinquents beating each other into the grave, I will," The guard told him. "Now either you fight, or I'll take you back to the white rooms." That sent a wave a panic through him. The white rooms?

No.

No.

NO!

Going back there was NOT an option! Images of everything he had seen in the white rooms flashed before his eyes; kids being tackled and beaten by the guards until they were bloody, Johnny killing himself, the screaming and the yells coming from the rooms around him, it was like he was there all over again and experienced it all again in three seconds. No, he couldn't go back there at any cost. So he did what he was told: fight. But he knew he wasn't that strong compared to most, so he had to have a weapon. Quickly looking around he spotted the metal pipe Specs had that he dropped when the commotion started. In pure fear and panic TJ grabbed that pipe off the floor and started to swing it, hitting the person he was told to fight. He closed his eyes as most would do in fear and just swung. He could feel it hitting something each time he swung it, but underestimated how hard it hit. He didn't know how much time had passed when the pipe was pulled out of his hands and he was pulled away. Out of the breath and gasping for air he opened his eyes and all he could see was blood.

Blood. It was everywhere. On the floor, on his jumpsuit, on the pillars, on the metal pipes, and on his hands. The metallic smell of it was inescapable as well as the site in from of him. The other boy that he was told to fight was laying on the floor, covered in his own blood and laying in a growing puddle of it. He wasn't moving an inch, and a large prominent crack on his skull was pouring out blood.

Shocked, TJ was unable to move. It all hit him at once. All the blood everywhere, the pipe on the floor at his feet, the blood on his clothes and his hands were because of him.

~*~END FLASHBACK~*~

"The coroner said his brain was liquefied and his skull bashed in. His parents had to identify him by a birth mark on his ankle, the only part of his body that wasn't broken or mangled. His rib cage was completely shattered, both arms were broken, internal bleeding,…just about everything you can think of, I did it to him…he was only in for two weeks for shoplifting and now he's dead."

Taking a shaky breath, TJ waited for a response, if one would come at all. Everything went by so fast, it almost didn't feel real. It was bad enough he had to deal with have killed a kid; he felt lower than dirt for that. He knew he didn't plenty of bad things but this, this wasn't ever considered to be a possibility. Never had it crossed his mind to end someone's life. And once the news got a hold of it, they had a field day. The story played on the news over and over again for weeks, making sure what he did was known by those who watched TV. Those who didn't watched TV learned from reading it in the newspaper, and those who didn't read the newspaper learnt it from word of mouth. There wasn't a soul who hadn't heard about what he did. The news had dubbed him Third Streets 'Little Monster' and people were outraged at what he did to that boy. Many were waiting for charges to be pressed against him, others were demanding that he never be released. A few wanted to build him his own prison. The saving grace was that because of a Law passed a few years back preventing kids in juvenile detention from being charged of the crimes they commit while they're in juvie he wasn't going to be charged with the murder. That only made people angrier.

"Why?" Asked Principal Prickly. He had seen the news as well as the security videos the news played of the incident. "Why did you do it?"

"I couldn't go back into those white rooms! It's torture in there! They pump you full of so many tranquilizers and drugs that you can't even think! All you do is lay on your back and drool and they keep giving you more and more and more and you can't do anything about it! Kids are killing themselves back there every day just to get out! The guards drag you out and beat you for fun and then they make you fight the other inmates and if you don't they'll take you back into the whites rooms so you black out and start beating the other kid up so much it kills them!"

"This place should've been locked down a long time ago," Said the principal. "It has a massive record with kids…."

"I look at the kids who kill themselves and I think they're so lucky because they don't have to deal with this anymore. How could anyone deal with all this?"

"You get those thoughts out of your head! I know it's hard to stop thnking about it when it's all around you, but you've got to stop thinking about suicide. It's not good for you."

"….I'm just so tired," TJ said as he folded his arms on the table and laid his head down. "I just want to go to sleep, sir….."

"Then you go back and go to sleep. God knows you need it…." The bell signaling the end of visitation rang, and the two of them said their good-byes. Principal Prickly promised he would visit again as soon as he could, which made TJ happy.

Reaching the dorms he looked around at the inmates, going on with their daily routine as if nothing happened. There was still a large blood stain on the floor where the incident occurred, and it didn't look like it was going to come up anytime soon. Looking away, TJ headed for the payphone and dialed his parent's number. It rang its usual four times before going to the answering machine. Knowing that it wouldn't be worth it to try and call again he put the phone down and headed to his room.

The room was empty and a single envelope lay on his bed. Reading the return address he saw that it was a reply to the letter he sent out three months ago. He was wary of opening it; what if it was just hate mail? Then again it could be something positive and he desperately needed something positive. He opening the envelope and pulled out the pages of notebook paper that was written on in different handwritings.

TJ,

You know, we actually thought about your letter for a really long time. We argued among ourselves whether or not to forgive you for what you did. Mostly because he thought you went apeshit and lost your mind and now that you're with kids who make what you did here seem like nothing, you might've learned your lesson.

We fought and argued with each other so much about this that we spent days without talking to each other over it.

Then it hit us that he shouldn't be arguing and fighting and risking OUR friendship over YOU. Why should we? You did this to yourself, and now that you're being punished for it, you're playing the sympathy card. I bet you think it's real funny to try and control us from three hours away. But it's not going to work.

And we saw what you did on TV. Everyone did. You killed that kid. You are now a murder. It wasn't enough to TRY and kill us in that fire was it? We don't know how you can live with yourself after doing that. Do you really think we want to be friends with someone who's a murderer? Sorry, we don't.

So please do not send us anymore letters asking for forgiveness, because we will not give it and your letter will swiftly be thrown in the nearest trash can or fire.

-Your FORMER friends

Sitting down on his bed, TJ smiled at the letter he held in his hands. He expected his friends to feel that way, but reading it hurt so much more. He felt like crying, but he could cry anymore; he ran dry of tears. He stuck the letter back in its envelope and laid down in his bed, thinking, but that was quickly snatched away.

'Murderer,' Alex hissed. 'You're a murderer.'

"I know," TJ said, turning on his side to face the wall. "..leave me alone, Alex.."

"Hmph, I don't even want to be around you," Alex said before disappearing. "No one wants to be around a murderer."

'I know,' He said in his head. 'No one wants to be around a murderer. That's why I'm leaving.'

Taking a deep breath, TJ checked his watch; 7:20 p.m. JoJo would've gotten in the shower by now and would be out in five minutes. Reaching under his mattress he pulled out the small knife he snuck out of the kitchen. He looked at his reflection in the blade. The edges were so sharp; it looked like it could cut anything but all he needed it to do was cut flesh. Biting his lip he made one quick slash around his left wrist, followed by the same motion in the right. He dropped the knife and the sound of it dropping created the loudest bang he ever heard. Panting for air he felt the blood pour down his hands an in between his fingers before falling to the cold hard floor. Lying back down on the bed, TJ closed his eyes as he started to get what he wanted.

Sleep.

Don't worry guys, I'll update soon. It's the weekend! But wouldn't that be a bitch if I never updated this story again? I'd be so mad if I were you….but I am so don't worry! :)

There's something about the age 14 that makes me think it's like fork in the road with him…..maybe it's because I read this one story called Time Heals All Wounds in this section a while back. That story really stuck with me…have any of you read it?

RandallXSpinelli: I still can't imagine him blonde! D: and I'm the one who made him like that. It's like I CAN, but the image slips away oh so fast.

Donna Nnov: I actually head that phrase on someone profile before. It was more like, "Death is Gods way of telling you you're fired. Suicide is our way of saying 'you can't fire me, I quit!'" I thought it was funny in a twisted way. :) thought I slip that in there since we're talking about death.

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