Excerpt from Married at Fourteen, by Lucille Lang Day

My cell at juvie was midway down a long corridor with tiled walls. Just to the right of the doorway there was a small washbasin beside a toilet with no lid. At least it had a seat! At the end of the room, on the left side, a small table and plain wooden chair stood in front of a barred window that looked out on a grassy hillside behind the building. To the right of the window was a hard, narrow bed with a single gray blanket, a flat pillow, and yellowed sheets. The room stunk of Lysol; periodically, I heard heavy doors banging shut.”

For the full book excerpt, click here: thenervousbreakdown.com