The writing below is a fictional account inspired by the story of Claude Dawson, an inmate at Eastern State Penitentiary in the early 1900s.
Having a bag pulled over my head.
Feeling like I'm the worst person in the world for just a little thing. I'm seen as a criminal even though I would never hurt a soul.
They don't know how it feels not being able to see your family. Not seeing them grow up.
Not being able to go outside and feel the air. To feel free and alive that's what I want to do but unfortunately I'm here trapped and shackled like an animal never to see daylight again.
So I wait, and think, and then I stop to think again.
"I will just dig a hole to see my wife and kids again..."