The First Days
Lockdown wasn't like the group home. It wasn't even like juvie.
Here, everything was sharper — the guards' voices, the rules on the walls, the weight of eyes watching from every corner.
Jayden felt it the moment he stepped into the cafeteria on his second day. The air buzzed with tension, trays clattering, kids sizing each other up like predators in a cage. He could feel their stares on him — the new kid, fresh meat.
He kept his head down, pushing food around his tray. But inside, the fire stirred. It wanted to lash out, to show he wasn't weak.
That's when Dre sat across from him again, his presence calm but solid, like he owned the space around him.
"Rule one," Dre said quietly, breaking a piece of bread with his hands. "Don't stare too long at anyone. Around here, eyes are knives."
Jayden glanced up at him, then back at his food. "Yeah? And rule two?"
"Don't eat too fast. Don't eat too slow. People watch how you move. Show weakness, they'll eat you alive. Show too much strength, they'll come test you."
Jayden snorted. "So what, I'm supposed to just… exist in the middle?"
"Exactly," Dre said. "That's survival."
---
The Lesson in the Yard
Later that afternoon, the boys were taken to the yard — a square of cracked asphalt surrounded by tall fences and razor wire. Kids grouped up fast, forming little circles: some tossing a ball, others leaning against the fence, watching like hawks.
Jayden stood alone, hands in his pockets, pretending not to notice the whispers.
Dre appeared at his side again, scanning the yard. "Rule three," he said. "Find someone to stand with. Alone makes you a target."
"I didn't come here to make friends," Jayden muttered.
Dre smirked. "That's what everyone says, right before they get jumped."
As if on cue, a scuffle broke out on the far side of the yard. Two boys swung fists while the others egged them on. A guard rushed over, barking orders, but Jayden noticed something — nobody looked surprised. This was normal here.
Dre's voice was low. "Fights aren't about anger. They're about status. You fight, you climb. You lose, you get marked. Don't forget that."
Jayden's fists clenched. "What if I don't care about status?"
"Then you better care about survival," Dre said.
---
The Test
That evening, as they lined up to return to their cells, a tall kid with scars on his knuckles bumped Jayden hard with his shoulder.
"Watch where you're going, new blood," the kid growled.
The fire inside Jayden flared. His body screamed to swing, to burn this boy down before he could become another Marcus. But Dre's voice cut through the roar: Eyes are knives. Alone is a target. Pick your battles.
Jayden took a deep breath, forced himself to step back instead of forward. "My bad," he muttered, his jaw tight.
The boy stared at him for a moment, then smirked and moved on.
Dre leaned close. "Rule four. Sometimes walking away isn't weakness. It's strategy."
Jayden hated how true it felt.
---
The Night Talk
Back in their cells, the lights dimmed, Dre's voice came low through the wall again.
"You got fire, Jay. I can see it in the way you look at people, the way your fists twitch. But if you don't learn to control it, this place will burn you out."
Jayden stared at the ceiling, the cracks looking like bars above him. "So what, I'm supposed to just swallow it? Let them walk all over me?"
"No," Dre said. "You learn to aim it. Fire can destroy. But it can also protect. You just gotta choose which."
Jayden lay there in silence, the words digging deep. For the first time, someone wasn't just telling him to stop fighting. They were telling him to fight smarter.
---
The Unwritten Rule
Before sleep pulled him under, Dre added one more.
"Rule five: Never forget who you are outside these walls. If you let this place define you, you'll never leave it behind."
Jayden closed his eyes, Layla's face flashing in his mind, her small hand gripping his sleeve.
He whispered into the dark: "I won't forget."
And for the first time in Lockdown, the fire inside him didn't feel like it was consuming him. It felt like it was waiting — to be used.