In solitary, it was almost always freezing. Prisoners would wrap themselves in sheets and extra clothes and walk back and forth just to stay warm. Some days, I could see my own breath.I suffered in silence, but some inmates would rip up their blankets, stuff them into their toilets and start flushing, flooding the unit.
One night, prisoners on the top portion of the unit started to “flood” together. Filthy water poured down from the upper floor to the lower level, flooding the cells there. My cell filled with water up to my knees. Later, as the pipes were clogged, the toilets started to flood, including mine, adding to the mess. Horrified, I jumped onto my bed, but the dirty water started to rise until it lapped at the edge of my mattress.
I yelled for the officers to help, but no one came. After some time, the water stopped rising and began to recede, but the damage was done – my cell was filthy. An hour or two later, an officer came by, and I pleaded with him to open the door.
He smiled. “It’s third shift” – meaning the unit had to stay locked up – “I’m not opening any doors.”
“It’s nasty in here, bro. Please let me at l …
