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Ed Helms
For writers in juvenile hall, sentences can be liberating
For writers in juvenile hall, sentences can be liberating

Eminem's "The Monster" ricocheted off the cinder-block walls and worn linoleum floor at Sylmar's Juvenile Hall. I'm friends with the monster that's under my bed Get along with the voices inside of my head You're trying to save me, stop holding your breath And you think I'm crazy, yeah, you think I'm crazy Ten teenagers, some of them awaiting trial on charges of murder, attempted rape or armed robbery, sat around a makeshift table in a hallway near the guard station, eyes closed, heads nodding to the beat. In the middle of the group, appearing scarcely older than the inmates and wearing a dark hoodie and canvas sneakers, Scott Budnick...