Getting to know your new "home", where you'll be to stay for at least two years...

The few days after the trial ended are barely etched in your memory.

During those days, you remained confined to the solitary confinement cell for detainees, located in the Hottenville police station.

Every night, you cried, your face buried in the uncomfortable, hard pillow, lying on the bunk in your cell.

The realization that your foolish desire to earn a lot of money without much effort had led to the ruin of your life's journey, and the terrifying fear of what was to come - all of this tormented your psyche every day.

On the last day before being sent to the main prison facility, you received a letter from your aunt, Martha Spencer...

She...

She disowned you!

"The family's greatest disappointment..."

"A despicable sinner who fell so low as to become a **** dealer..."

"You have betrayed God himself and are unworthy of mercy – therefore, I will not spend another cent on your villainous person..."

The phrases from the letter, written in almost flawless calligraphy, are literally "smelted" in your mind forever...

Aunt Martha's puritanical principles have led to her **** contempt for you and her unwillingness to maintain any further contact with you...

So, your actions have not only ruined your plans for college...

Your actions, it seems, have also destroyed your ties with family members and dealt a fatal blow to your financial situation.

You have no money...

And you clearly cannot hope for help from auntie Martha Spencer anymore...

Hope for help from your mother? This is highly unlikely...

She's been living in Europe (in France) for many years and has shown no interest in your fate...

With such sad thoughts and a sense of hopelessness, early one morning, you, along with a group of other convicted criminals, board a long bus that soon leaves the police station grounds.

The bus travels north along the highway for a long time...

You stare out the window...

The bleak landscape of the steppe evokes thoughts of the predestined sorrows of life...

The handcuffs on your hands press uncomfortably against your skin...

Another convicted criminal sits in the seat next to you.

A young, skinny guy of Hispanic descent, who looks only a couple of years older than you.

A small black mustache, a short haircut, a large, "aquiline" nose...

He's wearing a dirty, torn T-shirt and old, faded jeans.

His black eyes glance briefly at you.

"Why did those fucking pigs send you to jail, dude? By the way, my name is Hugo..." - he asks you.

"My name is Billy... I was convicted of **** trafficking..." - you answer melancholically.

"The same thing happened to me... Do you know where exactly we're going?" - the guy asks.

You shake your head.

"San-Benjamin State Prison... The largest prison complex built in California in the last decade... And also a stinking hole where we'll have to spend years..." - your interlocutor says.

"Have you been to any prisons before?" - you ask.

"No..." - he replies.

"Me too... For the first time..." - you say quietly.

"But I know a thing or two about shitty places like that... My older brothers and friends told me... In our neighborhood, almost every family had someone in prison... Let me tell you something, dude... It's really hard to survive in places like that alone—you need help from friends or a lot of money... Do you have money? Maybe you have rich relatives?" - Hugo's gaze shows interest.

"No... I don't have money... And my family won't help me..." - you answer sadly.

"Shit... However, there's still a chance we can both help each other... We'll probably both end up in the same prison section - after all, we're both first-timers... How many years did you get sentenced to?" - the reminder of years in prison makes you shudder.

"Two years..." - you say.

"I'm getting three years... That means our prison sentences are short... Which makes it even more likely we'll be in the same prison sector... So try to find me in a couple of days after you arrive... Hugo Lopez... Remember, dude... Maybe things aren't as bad for you as you think..." - your interlocutor says.

"Thank you..." - you're surprised anyone even offered to help you in such a shitty situation.

The bus continues to travel for many more hours...

Finally, you see tall power lines out the window...

And walls... meters-high walls, the upper portions of which are completely covered with barbed wire.

And also: tall towers, topped with armed men and large floodlights, clearly designed for use at night. The bus slowly approaches the prison gates, whose size resembles that of a medieval castle...

The bus driver honks the horn, and the gates begin to slowly open...

The bus enters the guarded prison perimeter...

Soon, you and a group of other convicted criminals are **** off the bus.

The armed guards look menacing...

Stern expressions, body armor, automatic rifles, the barking of guard dogs...

You shudder in fear at the intimidating atmosphere in this place...

"Line up, bastards! Faster, stinking scums!" - one of the guards orders your group to line up against the gray wall of one of the buildings adjacent to the gates.

"Roll call... Let's check if all of you fucking stinkers are here... Jones! Step forward! Oliveira! Step forward! Lachinsky! Step forward!" - prison guard's loud, rude voice is having an effect on your psyche (it seems you'll have to get used to such... "impolite" treatment).

"Atkins! Step forward!" - you almost hesitated, but managed to take a step.

The roll call continues for another five minutes...

And then you and a group of convicted criminals who were riding with you on the same bus are led into a squat, one-story building.

The dark green paint on the walls exudes a foul odor...

Stairs down...

Your group is led to a basement, from which a corridor leads, ending in a large metal door.

"Everyone take off your clothes! All your clothes, motherfuckers!" - the guard's loud voice is peremptory.

"But this... is humiliating! This is a violation of my constitutional rights! I don't want it! I demand to be able to call my lawyer!" - a tall, skinny, red-haired guy with glasses dared to object.

"Oh... What a funny joker! His Majesty requires a lawyer? Perhaps, Your Majesty, you also need us to bring you some oysters and foie gras with a Château Margaux 1848 red wine? Would you be so kind as to try this, Your Majesty?" - prison guard's sarcastic reply culminates in a powerful blow from a rubber truncheon to the red-haired guy's stomach.

"Ahhh... You have no right! I'll file a complaint against you!" - guy lies on the cold tiled floor, clutching his stomach.

A group of prison guards surround him...

And they begin kicking his defenseless body!

Broken eyeglasses are thrown away and glass shards scattered across the floor...

You witness this brutal beating and realize what a cruel place you've found yourself in...

A couple of minutes later, the bloody body is carried away somewhere.

"So, you pathetic, stinking bastards, will you now follow orders? Or would you prefer the fate of that red-haired faggot-shiteater?" - prison guard's sadistic, mocking tone seems to suggest he and his colleagues would gladly beat you all up.

You see, one by one, the criminals begin to strip their clothes off...

Will you do the same?

Or will desperation push you to a different course of action?