Johnny is now 17, he’ll be 18 years old in one week. He is still in the Child Delinquent Center for robbing a bank when he was fourteen. He is going to be released in one week. Because he would be an adult and they only take in children. His parents are nowhere to be found. So they have to put Johnny out on the streets. Johnny likes to be called Joey now, he thinks Johnny is childish.

1 WEEK LATER

“Jonathan Fez Pinciotti to the Headmaster immediately!” said Ms. Bob, the Secretary. Joey did not want to leave, he had no where to go. Then Joey knocked on the Headmasters door.
“Come in Mr. Pinciotti.” said Headmaster Forman. Joey walked in.

“How you doin’ Pinciotti?” Headmaster Forman had a bit of an accent.
Headmaster Foreman was from down south, somewhere in Texas. His chewed tobacco was clumped up in his bottom lip, his spit bottle was almost full with what looked to be filled with a dark brown mucus, with little bits of the tobacco resting it the bottom of the poland spring bottle.

“Fine. And you?” said Joey.

“I’m doin’ better than a bunch o’ jack jobbing knockers fighting over a batch o’ pumpkin seeds cookin’ in a oil tank grill on Hanukkah!” said Mr. Forman.

“So anyway heres the official papers for you to sign so you you can be released, oh and by the way Happy Birthday.” Oh yay thought Joey. Joey signed the papers, his signature says Turtle P. He loves turtles and so he put it as his signature and then the P is for Pinciotti. Joey is now a free boy well, man.

Joey was on the streets with no money, no food, no job, and no home. The smell of the prime and fantastic fresh air reminded him that he was free, but it wasn’t enough. It was the middle of the winter in Alaska and all he had to wear was cloths that he had worn when he was 14, the cloths he was wearing when he was brought there. They did not fit him anymore because he obviously grew, about a foot an a half in 4 years (Joey is now 6’ 6”). Joey stood next to the snowy road in front of the Child Delinquent Center until a pick-up truck came over the horizon.

Joey waited for the speeding pick-up until it was about 10 feet away from him. Then, he stepped right in the path of the zooming 65 MPH Chevrolet 3500HD 1-TON pick-up truck. Joey had wanted to ended it all. The sound was horrifying, it sounded like crushing metal and a bag of bones falling to the ground from a 10 story building. Ambulances scrambled to Joey, he was brought to the hospital and was put in traumatic care. He lived.

Joey suffered from a total of 22 ribs (out of 24), two broken femurs, a broken tibia, shattered collar bone, fractured forearm, and a snapped jaw. His pain was agonizing, all he felt was pain from the head down. He felt as if he were on fire.

9 MONTHS LATER


Joey was done physical therapy and could walk and talk again. Joey had been taking prednisone prescription for about the whole time he was recovering, he hated the taste of it. He thought it tasted like ear wax and potting soil mixed (he would know what that tasted like). Joey wanted to go get his GED and try and get a job. They taught him some while he was in the CDC, but not a lot. Joey figured someone was watching over him and he must deserve to live.