The high-pressure hose hit me like a punch to the chest.It wasn't a shower. It was a punishment. The water was ice-cold. I screamed and nobody came.I fell to the tiled floor. My knees scraped raw against the rough stone."Get up, 402!" a voice barked.I couldn't breathe. Every time I tried to pull air in, the freezing blast knocked it back out. I tried to shield my face, but the pressure ripped my hands away."I said get up!"A heavy boot kicked me in the thigh. Not a warning. It was meant to hurt. I scrambled to my feet, slipping on the soapy tile. Five other boys stood naked beside me, shivering so hard their teeth chattered. None of them looked at me. Looking meant you hadn't been broken yet, and none of us wanted that label.I understood it fast.A guard with a shaved head and a black rubber apron stood over me, electric clippers buzzing like an angry hornet."No," I wheezed. "Not my hair. Please.""You don't have a name, no hair, no identity when you're here. You are just 402,"
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