Her eyes make me want to stay alive. They remind me that there is a world out there. A world where people like that girl can come from. She’s in hell with the rest of us now.

I’ve lost track of how many days I’ve been here. I only know that every time I fuck up, I’m staying for longer. That’s what they always say. I’m adding punishments. I’m adding strikes. I’m adding more days and weeks and months. The only way out is to prove that I’ve learned. I’ve given that a try before. We all have. It never seems to work.

Some of the guys leave eventually. When they behave so well they’re allowed to talk to their parents. Maybe their parents come to their senses. Maybe they finally manage to convince their parents of what’s happening here.

I don’t know. It’s against the rules to tell our parents anything about this place when we are granted the privilege of calling them. When I first got here, I was so mad that I didn’t talk to him even when I was finally allowed. That was months after they dragged me through the front doors.

I figured if he’d sent me to this place, he’d never believe me about what it was like. I still don’t think he’ll ever try to get me out of here. He probably forgot all about me. It’s been so long that he has to figure I’m a lost cause.

I finish washing my hands and shake them dry. There’s no paper towel in here. No hand dryer, either. There used to be a hand dryer at one point, but all that’s left of it is a rectangular dent in the wall where it used to be. Somebody ripped it off the wall before I got here.

I wonder what that was like. I wonder how much they paid for it. More than it was worth. Nothing in this place is worth anything.

“Finally,” the staff member grunts. It’s not like I took extra time at the urinal. I ignore him. I keep my back straight and shoulders up like they tell us. I walk on the barely seen painted line on the floor. It’s the only line we’re allowed to walk on. “Come on.”

I follow him back down the hall to the room where we sleep—rows of beds, too close together, eight of us in a room. My bed is on the far side of the room. There are no windows in this cell. Thought it was illegal to put this many people in a room without any windows. Just more proof we’re not people at all.

They tell us enough. We act like animals. So we’re treated like animals. We did this to ourselves.