Kilmar Abrego Garcia's nightmare intensified during his stay at El Salvador's CECOT prison, where he not only lost 31 pounds but also found himself enduring physical and psychological torture, all while the lights never dimmed.

Abrego Garcia's experience in CECOT has led his lawyers to argue that he was subjected to torture, as he endured beatings, sleep deprivation, and horrifying living conditions that would make even a vampire yearn for a dark, quiet room. Now back in the U.S. facing human smuggling charges after his wrongful deportation, Abrego's situation highlights the ongoing struggle for justice amid chaotic immigration policies that seem to be more horror show than humane.

Upon his arrival at the infamous CECOT, things took a turn for the worse faster than you can say 'inadequate nutrition.' Prison officials greeted the inmates with the chilling remark: "Welcome to CECOT. Whoever enters here doesn't leave," setting a tone that could make a horror film look like a family reunion. Abrego Garcia soon learned that the prison was more like a house of horrors than any sort of correctional facility.

It is well-documented that Abrego Garcia was subjected to brutal physical abuse right off the bat. Kicked and struck by the very personnel tasked with keeping order, he endured conditions that could only be described as less than hospitable. Kneeling for extended periods became routine, and surprisingly, it did not come with a complimentary cushion. To add insult to injury, bathroom access was a luxury he could only dream about, leading to some unfortunate circumstances we need not fully explore.

Living arrangements at CECOT would make your average college dorm look like a palace. Abrego Garcia was crammed into a windowless cell with metal bunks that could double as torture devices if you squinted hard enough. Sanitation was minimal, which one could argue is an understatement. It's worth noting that the light never turned off. This fun little feature ensured that Abrego Garcia basked in fluorescent glow at all hours, perfect for that constant state of mild existential dread.

As if the physical torment wasn't enough, sleep deprivation contributed to Abrego's mental strain. With a diet that could be most politely described as insufficient, he managed to lose 31 pounds during his incarceration. In an age where fad diets are aplenty, one might suggest Prisons: The Ultimate Weight Loss Program, if not for the severe psychological ramifications. Instead of feeling fit and fabulous, Abrego was left battling the dual monsters of malnutrition and stress.

Following the mistreatment at CECOT, it appeared as though Abrego's luck did not improve. He found himself transferred to yet another prison, witnessing his conditions slide further downhill. One may even think of this as a uniquely unfortunate sequel in the narrative of his life. Abrego's lawyers have since been vociferous in their assertion that his detention and treatment constitute torture, and one has to wonder if the legal system deals in horror shows as well.

The Trump administration, for its part, has claimed that Abrego Garcia has ties to gangs—an assertion vehemently denied by his legal representatives. This strong denial suggests that perhaps there was some muddled identity mixed in with the paperwork. Suddenly, a simple name seems to have come attached with a horror story worthy of its own ominous echo, but sadly, this is just another chapter in a farcical saga that many would rather not be part of.

Abrego's wrongful deportation in the face of a 2019 court order—the kind that was supposed to protect him from persecution—poses an ironic twist. One must wonder whether procedures held any weight or if they were on the same shelf as last season's fashion: constantly discarded. Now, back on U.S. soil, he finds himself ensnared in a fresh legal quagmire, facing human smuggling charges as if the ghost of CECOT had followed him home.

To add a final twist to this ongoing saga, there are discussions within the Trump administration about deporting Abrego to a third country—because why stop at two when you can keep tossing people around like a game of political ping-pong? This plan might just redefine the concept of a round trip, but definitely not in the vacation sense. Abrego's fate is a jigsaw puzzle with too many missing pieces, and many are left wondering how this will all fit together.

In summary, Kilmar Abrego Garcia's escapade through the web of El Salvador's CECOT prison has uncovered layers of horror befitting a tragicomedy. The combination of brutal treatment, frequent relocations, and nebulous legal implications adds a stark layer of absurdity. While the current narrative appears bleak, it serves as a grim reminder of the complexities enveloping immigration policies and their impact—not just on individuals, but on society's collective conscience.