Basketball, baseball, listening to music, talking on the phone, spending time with family and friends. These are things most teen-agers like to do.
A group of teens at the Marion County Juvenile Detention Center likes to do these things, too, but they liked to do a few other things as well: stealing cars, smoking and selling weed, getting drunk.
"My life was cool outside of here, but I was always in trouble," says Ke-Ke.
Y-Press recently went to the detention center to interview four teens about how crime affects family and friends. To protect their privacy, they want to be called Scott, Dale, Joseph and Ke-Ke.
While they couldn't discuss their cases, they said what they miss most is their families. Although they receive regular visits from a parent -- usually two to three times a week -- it's not enough.
"You can't see your sisters, your children," said Dale, who has a daughter.
The juvenile center, which also houses a gym and school, is surrounded by a barbed-wire fence. Inside, the cement-block walls are painted beige, and the doors are monitored with surveillance cameras, ID card checks and locks.
The bedrooms, also with electronic locks, are small, with room for a small bed attached to the wall, a sink, a toilet and a small open strip in which to walk from front to back. Some rooms have a slit of window.
"It's not fun being locked in here, told what to do,'' Scott said. "And you can't talk whenever you want to."
Almost all of the teens said their parents were upset when they got into trouble. "My mom was disappointed because I got in here for something I really didn't do," said Dale. "We've gotten a lot closer since I've been here, though."
Scott's mom gave him extra punishment. "She grounded me to the house for a month, took away my stereo and my TV, and she made me go to bed at 10 o'clock every night," he complained.
Joseph's mother didn't care. "She hasn't been there for me," he said. "My dad, he has a little attitude towards me because I lied to him and said I wasn't ever coming back here again.''
At the time she was arrested, Ke-Ke wasn't living with her mother, but their relationship has improved.
"My mother, she's the type that will let you fall. She don't want to tell that you're doing wrong; she just let you fall and then she'll try to help you," she explained.
"When she found out I was locked up, she started coming here. We started getting closer and closer. Then she started coming every day."
Friends aren't allowed to visit. But for most of these teens, their friends were detained at the same time they were.
"My friends are in here with me," said Ke-Ke. "We got kicked out of school together, we did our crimes together, we got caught together, we fought together."
Neither Ke-Ke nor the others blame their friends for their troubles, though. They don't blame anybody but themselves.
"I had a little snotty attitude -- everybody owed me something. I had the world in my hand to do whatever I wanted to do," she said.
All of them said that when they are released, they plan on staying home and keeping to themselves.
"I'm gonna stay home. I'm gonna go to church, go to school, go home, go shopping for my daughter -- but with my parents, not by myself, so I won't get in trouble," said Dale.
"I think I'll live with my mom and my little brother and sister and think about what I'll be doing, how I could've done things differently," said Scott.
For Ke-Ke, the fact that her friends were with her when she was arrested won't affect their friendship, although she will keep her distance.
"When I get out of here, we gonna be talking on the phone, that's it, 'cause I'm staying at home. I ain't hanging with nobody else. I'm gonna wait till I get 18 and start my life all over again."
Most of the teens have big plans for their futures. Ke-Ke and Dale want to go to college. Scott wants to be "working at Allison's, making a fat paycheck."
On the other hand, Joseph doesn't have a lot of hope for his future.
"I'll probably end up in prison 'cause I'm hard-headed and won't listen to nothing," he said.
REPORTERS: Lindsay Crawford, 13; Kimberly Heron, 11; and Rebecca Salois, 10.