Tinley Park Penitentiary

       Walking down the halls of the high school everything seems to lack color. The lockers that were once a vibrant red have faded in to a maroon, almost gray color. The walls have decayed from creamy beige to a stone gray. It seems lifeless.
       The bell rings. Students pour out of their classes. It’s spirit day and everyone is wearing different shades or orange modeling after their mascot, who wears a orange jumpsuit at all times. Although they are all different, they still have the same look on their face. Dread. They walk into their designated hallways drowning out everything their last teacher just explained and preparing for the next. This has become a routine, the minimal sentence here is three years. Officers hover around the halls, looking for someone to bust. They all get sent down to Mrs. Warden, that’s the last place you want to be. She’s the one who controls things around here. She has the power to take away the little freedom you have and elongate your sentence.

A couple of hours later, the students are released to lunch. Orange bodies line up in a lunch line awaiting to receive either over-cooked or under-cooked meals. The freedom of choosing their own lunch have been taken away too. The meals have been rationed and the variety has diminished. The students sit down on different tables, reminiscing on home cooked meals, they seem so unattainable. Someone rarely gets visits from family members bringing food.

The bell rings again and in a quick second the halls are deserted. Officers, again, are walking back and forth peering in to the classes; anyone who is seen doing something out of the ordinary is promptly sent to the Warden. Sitting in class you can often hear the sound of other students being escorted down. Their steps sound like chains rattling in the distance. Each officer is assigned a different hall. The halls are then divided into classes, or cells as the architects called them. Each one of these cells are divided by the year you are currently serving.

The students serving their first year are the worst they still don’t understand the rules and regulations. They still have hope something will change along the way, but the fourth years they know its going to be the same no matter how long you try to change the system. Most of the fourth years have witnessed failed attempts at cracking it, someone always tries. They try to change the way things are taught here. They explore the possibilities, think outside the box and try to create new pathways. This is strongly discouraged by the faulty and more importantly the Warden. Any disturbance to the way things have been set by past generations is frown upon and highly consequential leaving no room for growth and experience.