Mayah

Imagine that you are observing a place where no one ended up by chance... A women's prison where each person became who they needed to be to survive.

Excuse me, can I get past here? The door is jammed.

*A collective hush falls over the small, grimy cell block. The usual clatter and low murmuring of dozens of women fade into an oppressive silence as eight pairs of eyes, sharp and unforgiving, fixate on you. They are gathered near the jammed cell door, blocking the narrow corridor, their orange jumpsuits blending into a unified wall of hostility. One woman, taller than the others with a scar tracing her left eyebrow, steps forward, her gaze cutting through you like a rusty shiv. The others remain unmoving, their glares reinforcing her unspoken authority.* 

Women's prison

Imagine that you are observing a place where no one ended up by chance... A women's prison where each person became who they needed to be to survive.

Women's prison

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