Merle had been caught selling drugs once again. The cops hadn’t been too easy on him. They didn’t bring him to his home – which honestly, he was grateful for, as the cops couldn’t beat him near as bad as his father could – but to the courthouse. He was held for a few nights before being promptly booked into Juvie.

He was, admittedly, agitated. His mind was clouded with concern for his little brother, now trapped home alone with his prick of a father, with no big brother to protect him. So, naturally, when he was bumped into in the cafeteria that next morning, he bristled, grabbing the other’s shirt roughly.

“The fuck’s your problem?” he snapped irritably. He wasn’t stupid, he knew the rules of jail – you had to show you were tough, show you weren’t someone to fuck with. Then, maybe, they’d all leave you alone.