#cosplayinghacker

It hadn’t been more than two months since he’d gotten here, and he already had a reputation. No matter how much you want to keep to yourself, word gets out quickly once they lock you up. Everyone knew within days of his arrival that he’d tried to burn down his family’s house; some believed he’d actually killed his family, but most highly doubted that. Arson. They knew that much. Arsonist were a special bred. The boys had seen plenty of arsonist come through the place. This new face wasn’t an arsonist. He was angry, but so was everyone else in this place. But his anger had a short and volatile fuse. This is how he earned a reputation within three weeks of moving in.

Day upon day, the other kids would taunt him. It was a test, see who they could break first. The pressure built, his hands shook a little more every day, until he snapped. He landed himself in intensive group therapy after sending one of the boys in critical condition to the hospital. They reminded him to behave because the behavior he had just displayed wasn’t going to help him in his case to stay in Juvenile Detention.

“Grant,” the therapist looked at him, an encouraging smile on her face, “You’ve been awful quiet this morning. Do you have anything you want to say to the newest member of our group?”

Grant looked over the new girl. She was a few years younger than him. Not the usual type that sat in the group. She wasn’t some sort of violent crime offender, she didn’t look like a petty theft, but something about her read, this was better than where she was before. Was she a runaway? Or part of the system? Or both? He hadn’t been here long, but he was slowly being able to pick up on the type of kids that rolled through this place.

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