There’s no real rehabilitation inside prisons or jails—just a cruel, unending cycle of violence and fear. People are thrown behind bars, stripped of dignity and hope, while the so-called “timers” and hardened inmates dominate the prison's underground world. Guards, who are supposed to maintain order, often become the worst offenders, meting out punishment with fists and batons. They target the most vulnerable spots—heads, backs, anywhere that hurts. The brutality is relentless, and it’s all done under the guise of keeping order, though in truth, it’s nothing more than sanctioned abuse.
Prisoners live in constant fear for their lives, as danger comes from all directions. If it’s not the guards inflicting blows, it’s the inmates who’ve created their own system of control, dealing out their own twisted sense of justice. Any pretense of a functional system dissolves behind these walls. Instead of rehabilitation, there’s chaos. Instead of reform, there’s despair. The system, broken beyond repair, doesn’t work. It’s another world entirely, cut off from the one outside, where the rules of society don’t apply.
Everything one finds on the streets exists inside these cold walls—drugs, alcohol, weapons—all smuggled in with the help of those sworn to uphold the law. Guards and prisoners alike run their businesses right there, dealing in contraband and power. There’s no real line between right and wrong anymore; everything is blurred. It’s a world where everything is a farce, a twisted game with no winners, only survivors.
In a place that should be about second chances, growth, and change, there’s nothing but decay. The very idea of prison as a rehabilitative space is a cruel joke. The walls are high, the rules are skewed, and the humanity is stripped away piece by piece. What’s left is a machine that grinds people down, spits them out, and ensures that those who enter will leave worse off—or never leave at all.
