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# “You’re Going to Rot in Here. The Only Way You’re Leaving Is Feet First.”
They didn’t need to.
They landed heavy and final, spoken with the kind of certainty that only power can afford. The guard didn’t shout. He didn’t sneer. He said it casually—almost bored—as he slid the metal door shut.
“You’re going to rot in here. The only way you’re leaving is feet first.”
The lock clicked.
And just like that, a life was reduced to a number, a cell, and a sentence meant to crush hope before it had a chance to survive.
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## Day One: When Time Stops Meaning Anything
The first thing you notice isn’t the bars.
Not a peaceful silence—an oppressive one. The kind that presses against your chest and reminds you that the world is moving on without you. That birthdays will pass. Seasons will change. People will forget.
The cell was small. Concrete walls scarred with old scratches—tallies, names, dates. Evidence that others had been here before. Evidence that many had tried to count time until they couldn’t anymore.
He sat on the thin mattress and stared at the door.
*Feet first*, the guard had said.
Not released.
Not proven innocent.
Not forgiven.
Just… removed.
Continue reading…
