As I sit here typing these very words this special team of officers is on the section tearing things up. This team was put together to search out cell phones and drugs and money hidden in the cells of death row inmates, yet since its conception they have found none of these things. They are all bullies who want to tea things apart, and that is all they do all day long. They totally disregard respect as they throw things out. I thought the fact that I have a matter of weeks to live they would leave me alone, but I have learned that this place is designed not only to house us until the state can legally murder us but also to destroy us mentally. They succeed with so many people. One guy here on death watch had a nervous breakdown last night, and they had to sedate him with clubs. They left him bleeding on the floor of his cell for three hours before a nurse came by to see if he was ok. He was still out cold, but she said he’d be fine.
I fear of losing what little sanity is left to me.
© Copyright 2010 by Kevin Varga and Thomas Bartlett Whitaker. All rights reserved.