In solitary, you’re bombarded by the sounds of humans forced into a grinding monotony of hunger, uncertainty, and madness. The noise in solitary confinement is ceaseless. You’re startled awake throughout the night by the repetitive slam of heavy steel doors and the shrill jangle of guards’ keys hanging from their belts, by the sound of their walkie-talkies crackling through the vast empty space. Once you’re awake, the light that never sleeps takes over—the long fluorescent bulb mounted above you burns bright. You cover your head with a blanket trying to evade its encompassing glare. As soon as you drift off, a guard kicks your door and tells you to show yourself, so they know you’re alive. When you do sleep, the garbled screams of your neighbors invade your dreams.
Striving for a World without Capital Punishment