start a fight [muke af]

ii

ii

Luke leant down from his post, his forehead leaning on the cold, blue metal bars keeping him from the inmates. "Clifford, you've gotta stay in your unit."

"I've gotta socialize!" He defended. He stood a few feet away from Luke, giving him an infamous pout.

"You know the rules, you have to ask me first."

Michael rolled his eyes. He ran a hand through his dirty blonde hair, brushing it from his face. "Just write me up, I literally could not care less." He walked back the way he came-the wrong way.

Luke looked over to his right, looking at another rookie. "Should I go follow him?"

The tan boy shrugged. "Probably. He's your duty, Dude."

Luke groaned loudly and pushed himself out from his desk. He wanted to finish his paperwork and simply get home. He was tired and stressed out, two things he didn't want to be.

The patrol officer grabbed his clipboard and a black pen, putting both at his side. He retouched his navy blue shirt, tightening his leather belt a bit on his thin waist. He was petite, even after training. He wasn't able to gain weight nor muscle, no matter how much he tried. He had to add another hole in his belt due to his thin waistline.

Or, his mother had to add another hole in his belt due to his thin waistline.

Luke turned the corner, nodding at a few other inmates.

Some inmates were well-behaved. They just wanted to serve their time and get the hell out of prison.

Then, there were the not-so-well-behaved ones. There were a few in Luke's unit that just wanted to cause a riot. They wanted to be loud, they wanted to fight, they didn't want to listen, then didn't want to be controlled.

Luke had the smallest unit, only twenty-four men. Michael seemed to be the leader of the two dozen men. They listened to him. If he acted up, they all acted up.

Why did Michael have more power than Luke?

"Clifford, get back in your unit!" Luke yelled his name as he finally caught up with the blonde. "And get your ass off the table."

Michael turned his head, looking at the scrawny boy. "You talkin' to me?"

"Get back in your unit or I'll write you up."

The man surrounding Mike let out a laugh. "Oh, Man. I'm so scared," he responded, his voice radiating with sarcasm.

Luke could see Michael's fully tattooed back through his orange jumpsuit. Luke could never understand how someone was willing to sit through hours and hours of a tattoo session. All Luke could think about was pain. Pure pain.

Luke walked around the table a few men were sitting out so he was facing Michael. "Get back in your unit."

"Write me up, Bitch."

Luke held up his clipboard, the end digging into the space below his ribs as he started to fill out the forms. He filled it out slowly for a few reasons. One, he was hoping Michael would beg for mercy so Luke wouldn't actually have to fill out the form. And two, his calligraphy was a mess, it was embarrassing to go to his boss and try to make out the words he wrote only hours prior.

"Ay, Rookie, I'm going to the next unit to visit some buds. Wanna follow me around and write me up again?"

An echo of laughter followed everything Michael said, and that angered Luke. Luke didn't like being taunted.