"It was just drunk driving," I told the judge. "What in the hell? Everyone does it."

The judge looked down at me, sternly. "You nearly hit three people. I'm not repeating myself. The sentence is final. You're lucky you didn't qualify for vehicular manslaughter." With that, he hit his stupid mallet on the podium and walked away, followed by a policeman.

"What the hell is a 'near-death penalty,' anyways?" I yelled after him.

The police dragged me by handcuffs to a waiting room, and then I was shipped onto a cold, metal bus with a bunch of other prisoners.

We arrived at the Douglas County Prison, and I stood up to exit the bus, but a guard walked up and shoved me back in my seat. "Not your stop," he grunted.

The doors closed as the last of the orange jumpsuits stepped out, and the bus started moving again, the guard standing right over me, holding onto the top of my seat, and glaring at me.

By the time it stopped again, I had already fallen asleep. The guard jerked me from my seat, and I fell over trying to wake up and walk. He shoved me along and had me exit the bus. I looked outside and a building with a sliding glass door and marble columns. A fountain stood behind us, with two snakes wrapping around a staff, one snake spitting water into the other snake's mouth.

"March," the guard told me, and I moved forward. We climbed the steps and went through the glass door to a reception area with cheap padded chairs and a woman in white gown who looked at me, both bored and disgusted.

"Send him to laundry, then to 110D," she said to the guard, and buzzed us through a pair of steel double doors.

The guard pressed his nightstick on the small of my back. "Go, boy."

We walked through the hallway and turned the into a laundry room. A man handed me some clean clothes and demanded I change into them before we continue. I stepped into a small locker room and did as was told.

The guard stood beside me, watching the entire time, and then led me out into the hallway where a doctor was waiting for us.

He was wearing a long white coat over a sweater vest with reindeer on it. He had a fluffy white beard that covered his entire face, and he wore a red Santa hat to sell the picture. "Here you go," he said, handing me a small bowl filled with green and yellow cubes of jello.

"What's this?" I asked.

"Dont ask questions," the guard replied, smacking my calf with the nightstick.

The doctor led us through to room 110D where he knocked rhythmically on the door. "Jessica, are you awake? Jessica dear..."

There was a momentary silence, and then he heard a rhythmic knock on the wall in response. He pressed open the door and led me in.

In the corner of the room was a small bed, overlooking the window. A small lump laid in the center, covered by a thin, white blanket. "Jessica," the doctor called. You have a visitor.

The guard shoved me forward.

Jessica tucked her head out of the blanket and looked at me. She was a grade-schooler, but around her eyes were deep black rings.

I handed her the jello bowl and she looked at it, putting one cube in her mouth and then setting it aside, turning to the window, away from us.

"We'll let you rest then," the doctor told her. "We're going to go check on your brother and then we will be back, okay?"

"Can I... come with you?" she squeaked.

"Well, I suppose so," the doctor responded. "Could you please help her into her chair?" the doctor asked.

He pointed to a small wheelchair beside her bed.

"What?" I asked. "How... how do I do that?"

"I'll show you this first time, please pay close attention."

The doctor helped Jessica out of her bed, lifting her up by hugging her under her arms, and loaded her onto her chair. He lifted her feet up onto the footrests, and then had me push her out towards the ICU.