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My cell: six feet by ten, two metal trays nailed to the wall with mattresses on top that look like old taped-up cushions from patio chairs. No one ever wants the top bunk—people cut each other over bottom bunks—but I like the top because it gives me the best view of our window: five inches wide, tw…

I’ve tried everything to get her to look at me: clamming up, asking questions, laughing, stretching, knuckle cracking. Every week I bring in something to read, and after I read it out she glances my way because she has to, but her eyes don’t connect—they’re looking next to me or behind me or even t…

What I want to know, Tom-Tom says, after I read out my stuff in class, is which one of these clowns is you?

Clowns? I squint up my eyes at him. Clowns are a touchy subject with Tom-Tom. I’m surprised he brought it up.

Okay, he says. Assholes.

[...]

Who says any of these assholes is me? …

Howard: Why, did it stink?

Danny: Not especially. It smelled like a cave.

He knew maybe a half second before he said the word that it was the last word he wanted to use. And by then it was out: cave.

Danny’s face went hot. He made himself look at Howard, but his cousin was watching the win…

There’s the door, she tells me, and points. Why don’t you just walk out?

I don’t move. I can walk out the door, but then I’d have to stand in the hall and wait.

What about that gate? She’s pointing out the window now. The gate is lit up at night: razor wire coiled along the top, the tower wit…