“Please, arrest me. I’d rather go to jail than go back to that house…”

orange jumpsuit. He sat slumped defeatedly in a cheap plastic chair, his face gaunt and heavily shadowed. His once-steady hands twitched visibly on the metal table as the corrections officers barked harsh, uncompromising orders at him. He was a man finally drowning in the absolute, terrifying powerlessness he had so freely inflicted upon his own flesh continue reading …