Escape: Unravelling The Shadows

Death Penalty

The legal system, established in 1807, was created with one purpose: to protect citizens from injustice and ensure that criminals faced the consequences of their actions. Over time, new laws were added, reinforcing the relentless pursuit of justice.

Not long after, the first facility designed specifically to confine criminals emerged—a place called prison. Here, those who broke the law were separated from society, allowing others to live safely and peacefully.

I always believed criminals belonged in prison, confined where they could no longer threaten society. In my eyes, anyone who ended up behind bars deserved to be there. After all, who else but the worst kind of people belonged in a place like that?

Driven by this conviction, I pursued a career in law, passionately advocating for what I believed was true justice.

At least, that's what I thought—until the day I found myself behind bars, accused of a crime I didn't commit.

It was only then, in the darkness of my own cell, that I began to understand the suffering of innocent prisoners—the daily stigma and dehumanisation from a society that sees us as less than human, like animals, or as lives already written off by the death penalty.

My name is Ethan Loo, and this is my story.

*28th April 2024

It's lunchtime in a Malaysian prison facility, a place divided into four distinct zones: A, B, C, and D. Each block houses a different category of criminal, with security measures intensifying as the severity of crimes escalates.

Rank D, the least dangerous, holds those guilty of low-level crimes like theft or scams. Rank C, with tighter security, houses those convicted of more severe offenses. Rank B holds those whose crimes have left deep marks—arson, attempted murder. But Rank A, where I am, is reserved for the country's most dangerous offenders—those deemed the greatest threat to the public. Here, every move is monitored, every sound heightened.

A few months ago, I was accused of murder.

This place is a cauldron of emotions, each person wearing a different mask. Some manage to smile, while others appear utterly emotionless. We are all here because we have done... or should I say, most of us have done something wrong. That's why we are locked up. This is my life now, a life I don't deserve.

Taking a seat in a quiet corner of the prison, I stare down at my plate of food - a chicken drumstick, rice, and a heap of vegetables. It's decent food, but I can't help but wonder why they bother feeding us well. After all, we are seen as the scourge of society, the worst of the worst.

That's why we're here, isn't it?

I was lost in thoughts of my old life when a light tap on my right shoulder snapped me back to reality.

"Ethan, found you."

It was Chris, one of my closest friends in this place. Chris had a formidable presence—muscular, veins bulging across his arms. Though he wasn't especially tall, his face exuded an intimidating aura that kept most people at a distance.

We first met about three months ago, right here. Back then, I was just a newcomer, clueless about the unspoken 'rules' that governed life in this prison. I'd unknowingly stepped into a restricted area, a place off-limits for "non-members." A group of bullies taught me a painful lesson, and no one else lifted a finger to help. But Chris stepped in, fighting off the bullies and defending me when no one else would.

Since that day, we've been inseparable. When he needs help, I'm there. And when I need backup, he's got my back.

"What's on your mind, Ethan?" Chris asked as he set his plate down, sliding into the seat across from me. He rolled up his sleeves with precision, making sure they didn't touch the food. "Want to talk about it?"