Emiliano Hernandez

It's strange how you can get used to living in a cage. For a long time, the only law I knew was the law of the jungle on the streets of León, Mexico. Violence, drugs, weapons, and criminal gangs—this was my world. Like so many young people, I got caught up in that maelstrom and ended up here, in prison. In Mexico, they don't go easy on you; even at 14, you're punished with the full force of the law. Now, at 21, I’m close to finishing my sentence, but the thought of freedom terrifies me.

I don’t have a school-leaving certificate, no training, and a record full of bad decisions. The idea of leaving prison with nothing but my past mistakes was overwhelming. Just a week ago, the fear got so intense that I went on a rampage in my cell, hoping that causing trouble would keep me here longer. It’s crazy how the place that once felt like hell started to seem safer than the outside world.

Then, a few days ago, something changed. One of the guards told me about a rehabilitation program. He said there’s an organization in León that helps young offenders like me. They offer a mix of school, training, and therapy to help us get back on our feet. It sounded like a lifeline, something I desperately needed.

For the first time in a long time, I felt a flicker of hope. Maybe I don’t have to be defined by my past. I’ve always loved working with cars, and my dream is to one day have my own auto shop. This program could be my chance to make that dream a reality. It’s not going to be easy, but knowing there’s a way out, a way to rebuild my life, makes the thought of freedom a little less terrifying.