Post by Sage Honeysett on Apr 19, 2015 19:06:25 GMT -5
A Typical Day at Juvy
6:00 am
In the distance Sage heard an alarm clock “RRRrriiiiiiiiinnnnnnnngggggggggggg!” Groaning, his hand slams down onto the poor clock. Using his arms he props himself up on the bed and then groggily rubs his eyes. Blinking as his vision comes into focus, he grabs his fake glasses and puts them on. Next, he stretches his arms in the air and bends backwards to try and loosen up some of the stiffness. After that he pulls off the covers and jumps off the bed and onto the cold concrete floors. Picking up the pace a bit he grabs a towel and some soap, then rushes over to the bath area, making sure he doesn’t lose his timeslot. He curses when he sees the line in front of him, even if he was only a minute or two late. When Sage finally gets into the showers, he cringes at the freezing cold water, but decides to deal with it and quickly washes himself. Then back to his room he goes and puts on the typical day wear – a grey jumpsuit with a white tee-shit underneath, such horrible color choice, and the fabric was uncomfortable too.
7:00 am
Breakfast arrived and Sage went into the cafeteria he got one of the metal trays, the ones with compartments, and gets in line. Milk, bread (not toast, bread) and some odd grey lump that might be oatmeal. Grabbing a fork and cursing under his breath, he starts to eat the tasteless food. It might be awful, but it was still food. When Sage finished he just sat at his table until they were dismissed. No one sat at his table with him, but then no one wanted to, as just yesterday he stabbed someone with a fork.
7:30 am
Back in his cell for around half an hour, they got a bit of free-time. Sage didn’t really have anything to do though. No one ever sent him gifts, no one talked to him, hell no one liked him. The only thing he had to look forward to is emails that were sent sometimes every other month if he was lucky. Yes, Mikey was a jerk, asshole, and many other things that shouldn’t be mentioned, but he kept in touch, which meant a lot to Sage.
8:00 am
At this time, Sage had two hours of therapy. Normal prisoners would be put to work, but after some unfortunate circumstances, it was decided he should go to therapy instead. When he got inside the room he cringed as always. The room was painted dull primary colors, and the furniture looked worn out and had many questionable stains. He was asked to sit down somewhere, so he picked a corner, which sadly might have been the cleanest part of the room. Then came the questions.
“So Sage, How are you feeling today?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“I see.” He writes down somethings in his notebook. “Have you been trying your anger management techniques?”
“Those fucking things, I’d rather shoot myself in the head.” He looks annoyed as the session will continue to move on like this.
_______________________________________ (ts)
“Now here’s a scenario, let’s say someone accidentally bumps into you, and they say sorry, what would you do?”
Sage smirks to himself as he answers. “I’ll kick that blind bitch in the gut, then strip his clothes off and the claw his chest until he’s painted in red.
“Red?”
Sage sighs. “Blood you retard of a therapist. What the hell is this anyways! What good can you possibly do by asking these questions!”
The therapist doesn’t answer, but that’s the end of the session. Sage is then taken back to his cell.
10:00 am
Next is manual labor, however Sage wasn’t allowed to do any of it. A few months back he beat a poor cellmate to death by smashing his head in with a hammer. The boy did nothing but ask Sage if he could try not to make a mess at his station. So, Sage spent this time in his cell. He wasn’t allowed to go wandering out by himself, so he just stayed in the cell. Boredom hit him after the first twenty minutes. He looked at the ceiling of his cell, just a white ceiling with some cracks in it, probably from water damage. He continued to look at the cracks and started to smile to himself as he imagined they were faults in the ground that opened up to swallow people, buildings, even towns. A bit happier than he was before, he took a nap, hugging his fairly flattened pillow.
11:30 am
Time for lunch, most of the prisoners seem to be in better spirits at the moment, maybe from being more awake now than they were earlier. Sage, however, is in the same mood he was earlier – “I hate the world” Today lunch is a carton of orange juice, some overcooked caned green beans, and some sort of brown mixture on a bun that maybe has some real meat in it? Well hopefully it’s not dog food. This time it seems there is a new kid who was just admitted into the facility. He’s rather large, more than six feet and looks all muscle. He makes the mistake of sitting at the table Sage is at. If that wasn’t bad enough, he starts to talk to Sage.
“Hey pipsqueak, go mope around somewhere else, I’m claiming this table.”
Sage’s eye twitches as he looks up from his food. He’s gripping the fork so tightly his knuckles turn white. “What did you say fucker?”
“Oh it seems the kitten has a big mouth.” The burly guy takes his plate of food and gets up, then he slams it into Sage’s face. “Opps, I dropped it.” He smirks and seems to be laughing at his own little joke. Everyone else in the lunchroom is stunned and most are thinking about taking cover.
The plate falls off Sage’s face as he looks down at it. Picking up the plate he smiles sweetly and hands it to the guy. “Here you go, I think you lost this.” In his mind he’s screaming at himself to do something, but he is trying to work out his therapy stuff… The guy smirks at Sage and takes the tray, then hits Sage’s head with it so he falls over. And, that’s it. Sage holds his head to stop the ringing, then takes his fork and stabs the guy in the eye. As he’s screaming bloody murder and trying to swipe at Sage, he takes the knife and stabs it hard enough that it goes into his arm and stays, a few inches down. The guy falls down in pain as Sage starts to laugh darkly. He’s holding his stomach as this is one of the greatest things he’s seen in a while. He’s about to pummel the guy, when two security officers grab him, one grabs his arms, and the other his legs, so he has no chance of an easy escape.
12:00 pm
Sage is locked in a white room now. Normally he’d be going to his thirty minute break, but it seems he did something bad, oh well. A voice comes in from a speaker which is mounted on in the upper corner, farthest from the door.
“Testing testing… Ahh, hello Sage, it seems you hurt one of your fellow inmates today, why?”
Sage rolls his eyes. “You fucking know already, at least with all the cameras you have around this freaking place.”
There’s a moment of silence before the voice comes back on. “Yes, but I would like your thoughts about it.”
“What thoughts, my thought of murdering the kid? He fucking slapped his lunch tray into my face. If that’s not freaking bad enough, the little bitch decided to hit me with said tray.” He scowls. “And that food sucks…”
The voice does a sigh and then does not speak again. Sage doesn’t know how much time has passed, or how long he’s been in the white room, but he knows he’s bored again. He’s started to look at the plush floor and wonders if he can bounce on it. The last asylum he was in, you could bounce on the floors. Figuring it’s worth a shot, he gets up and tries to bounce, but ends up hurting his knees with the force. He curses, then just goes back to sitting and being bored.
3:00 pm
Sage was finally let out of that room for his art therapy. There really wasn’t any talking he had to do, they just had some sort of art supplies set up, and two guards to watch him. Today was painting. Sage picks up the paintbrush and starts to draw a pretty landscape. He’s not the most artistic person in the world, but he isn’t terrible at art. When he finishes the blue sky and green grass, he adds little flowers and some birds in the picture. When it looks like he’s done he grabs some black paint on his brush and it looks like he’s going to sign the painting. However, that’s not true. Sage writes in large letters the words. “ALL THINGS ARE NEVERLASTING” He then takes the black paint jar and chucks it at one of the guards. The guard dodges and seems to call for backup. Before they get there, Sage manages to throw all the jars of paint, and kick down the easel and stab holes into the painting he did. He growls and starts to scream when he’s picked up again, same way as the last, and removed from the room.
5:00 pm
There’s no voice, nothing. There’s nothing but Sage in the white room. If this is their way of punishing someone, then it’s sure not working, because Sage just fell asleep in the room. He looks a lot more peaceful and maybe even happy in his sleep, it’s a wonder.
In his dream he’s with Mikey in a small room. They are both sitting on a couch and Sage is cuddled into Mikey, looking so small compared to the other male. They seem to be watching a horror movie, but Sage is paying more attention to his boyfriend then the movie. Yes, this was a good dream, a dream that would make a sad, pained Sage happy.
6:30 pm
Sage wakes up and he’s still in the room. The only thing different is there is now a Styrofoam tray of food in the white room. No utensils, just some crackers and peanut butter. Also a little paper cup of water. He eats the food slowly since he pretty much has all the time in the world in his white room. After finishing the food and drink, he takes the tray and starts to rip it into tiny pieces. Besides being angry and finally having something to rip up, Sage is just completely bored. When that’s done he stands up and picks up the little pieces of Styrofoam, from there he just sprinkles them around the room and pretends it’s snowing. He wonders if he’ll ever see snow again, since he’s not allowed outside anymore. True, his complexion seems a bit off, he’s a bit paler then healthy and looks under fed. There are also scars on his wrist and neck from things he did in the past. After that he sits back in the center of the room and waits.
8:00 pm
Sage was taken back to his room at this time. The only things that were said to him is to go to sleep. Sage then takes a slow time to take off all his clothes and put on his nightwear. He frowns a bit as he wasn’t allowed to go to the bathroom or brush his teeth. Sighing to himself and no one else, he climbs into bed and reviews his day. Well it wasn’t the worst day, but it might have been slightly different than normal, but overall this was just another normal day.
6:00 am
In the distance Sage heard an alarm clock “RRRrriiiiiiiiinnnnnnnngggggggggggg!” Groaning, his hand slams down onto the poor clock. Using his arms he props himself up on the bed and then groggily rubs his eyes. Blinking as his vision comes into focus, he grabs his fake glasses and puts them on. Next, he stretches his arms in the air and bends backwards to try and loosen up some of the stiffness. After that he pulls off the covers and jumps off the bed and onto the cold concrete floors. Picking up the pace a bit he grabs a towel and some soap, then rushes over to the bath area, making sure he doesn’t lose his timeslot. He curses when he sees the line in front of him, even if he was only a minute or two late. When Sage finally gets into the showers, he cringes at the freezing cold water, but decides to deal with it and quickly washes himself. Then back to his room he goes and puts on the typical day wear – a grey jumpsuit with a white tee-shit underneath, such horrible color choice, and the fabric was uncomfortable too.
7:00 am
Breakfast arrived and Sage went into the cafeteria he got one of the metal trays, the ones with compartments, and gets in line. Milk, bread (not toast, bread) and some odd grey lump that might be oatmeal. Grabbing a fork and cursing under his breath, he starts to eat the tasteless food. It might be awful, but it was still food. When Sage finished he just sat at his table until they were dismissed. No one sat at his table with him, but then no one wanted to, as just yesterday he stabbed someone with a fork.
7:30 am
Back in his cell for around half an hour, they got a bit of free-time. Sage didn’t really have anything to do though. No one ever sent him gifts, no one talked to him, hell no one liked him. The only thing he had to look forward to is emails that were sent sometimes every other month if he was lucky. Yes, Mikey was a jerk, asshole, and many other things that shouldn’t be mentioned, but he kept in touch, which meant a lot to Sage.
8:00 am
At this time, Sage had two hours of therapy. Normal prisoners would be put to work, but after some unfortunate circumstances, it was decided he should go to therapy instead. When he got inside the room he cringed as always. The room was painted dull primary colors, and the furniture looked worn out and had many questionable stains. He was asked to sit down somewhere, so he picked a corner, which sadly might have been the cleanest part of the room. Then came the questions.
“So Sage, How are you feeling today?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“I see.” He writes down somethings in his notebook. “Have you been trying your anger management techniques?”
“Those fucking things, I’d rather shoot myself in the head.” He looks annoyed as the session will continue to move on like this.
_______________________________________ (ts)
“Now here’s a scenario, let’s say someone accidentally bumps into you, and they say sorry, what would you do?”
Sage smirks to himself as he answers. “I’ll kick that blind bitch in the gut, then strip his clothes off and the claw his chest until he’s painted in red.
“Red?”
Sage sighs. “Blood you retard of a therapist. What the hell is this anyways! What good can you possibly do by asking these questions!”
The therapist doesn’t answer, but that’s the end of the session. Sage is then taken back to his cell.
10:00 am
Next is manual labor, however Sage wasn’t allowed to do any of it. A few months back he beat a poor cellmate to death by smashing his head in with a hammer. The boy did nothing but ask Sage if he could try not to make a mess at his station. So, Sage spent this time in his cell. He wasn’t allowed to go wandering out by himself, so he just stayed in the cell. Boredom hit him after the first twenty minutes. He looked at the ceiling of his cell, just a white ceiling with some cracks in it, probably from water damage. He continued to look at the cracks and started to smile to himself as he imagined they were faults in the ground that opened up to swallow people, buildings, even towns. A bit happier than he was before, he took a nap, hugging his fairly flattened pillow.
11:30 am
Time for lunch, most of the prisoners seem to be in better spirits at the moment, maybe from being more awake now than they were earlier. Sage, however, is in the same mood he was earlier – “I hate the world” Today lunch is a carton of orange juice, some overcooked caned green beans, and some sort of brown mixture on a bun that maybe has some real meat in it? Well hopefully it’s not dog food. This time it seems there is a new kid who was just admitted into the facility. He’s rather large, more than six feet and looks all muscle. He makes the mistake of sitting at the table Sage is at. If that wasn’t bad enough, he starts to talk to Sage.
“Hey pipsqueak, go mope around somewhere else, I’m claiming this table.”
Sage’s eye twitches as he looks up from his food. He’s gripping the fork so tightly his knuckles turn white. “What did you say fucker?”
“Oh it seems the kitten has a big mouth.” The burly guy takes his plate of food and gets up, then he slams it into Sage’s face. “Opps, I dropped it.” He smirks and seems to be laughing at his own little joke. Everyone else in the lunchroom is stunned and most are thinking about taking cover.
The plate falls off Sage’s face as he looks down at it. Picking up the plate he smiles sweetly and hands it to the guy. “Here you go, I think you lost this.” In his mind he’s screaming at himself to do something, but he is trying to work out his therapy stuff… The guy smirks at Sage and takes the tray, then hits Sage’s head with it so he falls over. And, that’s it. Sage holds his head to stop the ringing, then takes his fork and stabs the guy in the eye. As he’s screaming bloody murder and trying to swipe at Sage, he takes the knife and stabs it hard enough that it goes into his arm and stays, a few inches down. The guy falls down in pain as Sage starts to laugh darkly. He’s holding his stomach as this is one of the greatest things he’s seen in a while. He’s about to pummel the guy, when two security officers grab him, one grabs his arms, and the other his legs, so he has no chance of an easy escape.
12:00 pm
Sage is locked in a white room now. Normally he’d be going to his thirty minute break, but it seems he did something bad, oh well. A voice comes in from a speaker which is mounted on in the upper corner, farthest from the door.
“Testing testing… Ahh, hello Sage, it seems you hurt one of your fellow inmates today, why?”
Sage rolls his eyes. “You fucking know already, at least with all the cameras you have around this freaking place.”
There’s a moment of silence before the voice comes back on. “Yes, but I would like your thoughts about it.”
“What thoughts, my thought of murdering the kid? He fucking slapped his lunch tray into my face. If that’s not freaking bad enough, the little bitch decided to hit me with said tray.” He scowls. “And that food sucks…”
The voice does a sigh and then does not speak again. Sage doesn’t know how much time has passed, or how long he’s been in the white room, but he knows he’s bored again. He’s started to look at the plush floor and wonders if he can bounce on it. The last asylum he was in, you could bounce on the floors. Figuring it’s worth a shot, he gets up and tries to bounce, but ends up hurting his knees with the force. He curses, then just goes back to sitting and being bored.
3:00 pm
Sage was finally let out of that room for his art therapy. There really wasn’t any talking he had to do, they just had some sort of art supplies set up, and two guards to watch him. Today was painting. Sage picks up the paintbrush and starts to draw a pretty landscape. He’s not the most artistic person in the world, but he isn’t terrible at art. When he finishes the blue sky and green grass, he adds little flowers and some birds in the picture. When it looks like he’s done he grabs some black paint on his brush and it looks like he’s going to sign the painting. However, that’s not true. Sage writes in large letters the words. “ALL THINGS ARE NEVERLASTING” He then takes the black paint jar and chucks it at one of the guards. The guard dodges and seems to call for backup. Before they get there, Sage manages to throw all the jars of paint, and kick down the easel and stab holes into the painting he did. He growls and starts to scream when he’s picked up again, same way as the last, and removed from the room.
5:00 pm
There’s no voice, nothing. There’s nothing but Sage in the white room. If this is their way of punishing someone, then it’s sure not working, because Sage just fell asleep in the room. He looks a lot more peaceful and maybe even happy in his sleep, it’s a wonder.
In his dream he’s with Mikey in a small room. They are both sitting on a couch and Sage is cuddled into Mikey, looking so small compared to the other male. They seem to be watching a horror movie, but Sage is paying more attention to his boyfriend then the movie. Yes, this was a good dream, a dream that would make a sad, pained Sage happy.
6:30 pm
Sage wakes up and he’s still in the room. The only thing different is there is now a Styrofoam tray of food in the white room. No utensils, just some crackers and peanut butter. Also a little paper cup of water. He eats the food slowly since he pretty much has all the time in the world in his white room. After finishing the food and drink, he takes the tray and starts to rip it into tiny pieces. Besides being angry and finally having something to rip up, Sage is just completely bored. When that’s done he stands up and picks up the little pieces of Styrofoam, from there he just sprinkles them around the room and pretends it’s snowing. He wonders if he’ll ever see snow again, since he’s not allowed outside anymore. True, his complexion seems a bit off, he’s a bit paler then healthy and looks under fed. There are also scars on his wrist and neck from things he did in the past. After that he sits back in the center of the room and waits.
8:00 pm
Sage was taken back to his room at this time. The only things that were said to him is to go to sleep. Sage then takes a slow time to take off all his clothes and put on his nightwear. He frowns a bit as he wasn’t allowed to go to the bathroom or brush his teeth. Sighing to himself and no one else, he climbs into bed and reviews his day. Well it wasn’t the worst day, but it might have been slightly different than normal, but overall this was just another normal day.
