Prisoner?

Jason's POV

Pushing myself off the hard bunk with a grunt, I strode out alongside my fellow inmates into the dark corridor of the prison. In a single file, we dragged ourselves to the prison yard where we had our morning drills. During my first few days here, the space of about a plot of land was apportioned to me to clear up, but with my transition to the chief bully, such was no longer the case. I was even nicknamed Don Jay after I served the previous bully, loads of punches.

"Would you all stop dragging your feet?" the prison officer barked.

The question must have provoked the inmates as the shuffling of feet intensified.

"Man, are you deaf? Lift your feet off the ground," I heard an inmate say.

Swiftly turning around, I shot a fiersome gaze at this new scrawny inmate who probably doesn't know who I was. Because the rest of the inmates knew better than to question me or challenge my authority. Giving him a second chance, I ignored him and assumed my steps.

"Hey!" he barked, wi