The soft hum of the ultraviolet light is deafening. I lay with my arms behind my head staring unblinking into its glow, as cold air blows swiftly across my body from the vent above.
I can hear the muffled sounds of the prison behind my cells locked reinforced steel door. Gone are the days of the old iron bars, thankfully replaced by these solid noise reducing barricades. Somewhere off in the distance I can hear the argument between two cell mates and I am grateful for the single cell I occupy.
My cell is 12'×9' white latex painted cinderblocks decorated with former prisoners names and petrified boogers. There's a single sheet metal bunk, a bare shelf for pictures, three hooks for hanging towels, a metal desk bolted to the floor with a swinging metal disk to sit on, and a stainless steel toilet sink combo, nothing else.
Why am I here? Well, that's irrelevant. The only question of relevance now is; what's left for me to live for? I have lost everything, including my will to live. Without freedom and free will what else is there? Certainly life cannot have any meaning without these essential birth rights. A man in captivity and demoralized isn't a man at all, is he?
Even the men...