Yesterday I got up at 5 as usually. But instead of normal schedule, I was taken to the medical point and given a thorough physical exam. I had to undress entirely and to lay down in chair with stirrups. A prison nurse recorded my vital signs followed by a doc who listened to my heart and lungs, palpated my belly and performed digital rectal exam with evaluation of prostate gland. "You're very fit and healthy, young man" he told me signing some papers. Then I was given clean clothes and escorted back to the cell. I had time to have a rest and pack personal belongings, just few books and notes. Final meal arrived in the evening: a simple salad and a bottle of water.
Thus today is different, I face one way walk. I will never came back again. I will have to serve my ordeal – death by electrocution. I am looking up at a simple light above my head. The bare bulb is radiating harsh light. I consider the simplicity of the light and the whole room. The three walls of the cell room are grey, the remaining one is just a moving bar panel. I look at my plastic watch. It's 5 am. Three hours left, my execution is scheduled at 8 am. Now I start to feel nervous knot in my stomach, I got jittery. What is going to happen? What will it feel like? Why me? I can hear steps approaching my asylum to interrupt sentimental review of my life. The bars are being unlocked and a group of armed and masked guards enter my cell. They are all tall, muscular men, I cannot see their faces, they look so brutal and impersonal.
“Sorry boy, it's time.”
My initial reaction is to flee, but I know that won't work, so resign to being cooperative.
"Please remove your clothes, your watch, and any other items and place them in this sack" – I am instructed with a motion toward the fresh plastic bag just placed the left on my bunk. I stand up and take off my white tank top. Then undo my orange trousers. They slip off as usual. I realize that this is the last time I will be taking off my own pants. As socks are forbidden I wear only my white cotton boxers, I like so much. Slip them off and slowly place with the rest of your cloths in the bag.
"Stand up and bend over away from me." I hear and obey.
I can feel finger in my rectum being checked for any foreign devices. This is routine and frequent procedure in prison, applied always when an inmate leaves or enters back the holding cell, I am accustomed to it. Actually my rectum had been searched for thousands of times. The law enforces to protect inmates' dignity, so total nakedness is forbidden. I am given polyesther disposable g-string. “Put it on now!” I obey and inspect this tiny, transparent triangle which exposes my growing manhood.
Now one of the guards handcuffs my hands in front while the other puts shackles on my ankles. Each guard takes an arm, extracting me out of the cell. There are some other people waiting for me: guards, a priest and some officials. My nakedness contrast with their uniforms and boots.
"You don’t have to hold me, I’m not going to resist you." I say pleadingly feeling gloved hands on my arms. We start to walk down the corridor, pass through a barred door and stop at a solid steel door along the right hand wall marked "Preparation Room". The door opens to reveal a large room. Inside I can see stark walls and what looks like a barber’s chair in the center of the room. Along one wall is a stainless steel sink, a stainless steel toilet, and in the corner a shower stall. Another guard is standing near a cart full of utensils. Also waiting inside is paramedic in a white smock wearing glasses and a stethoscope.
The guards escort me over to the chair, turn me around, and remove my chains. The seat of the chair, the back and the legs are in separate articulating sections and each section has straps hanging from them. One of the guards pulls a leather strap around my waist and buckles it. Another straps my left arm and left leg to their respective portions of the chair while the other guard secures my right arm and leg.
Things are beginning to happen very quickly now. One of the guards produces a set of electric hair clippers. With several quick swipes of the clippers my medium length dark hair lay on the floor beside the chair. As soon as the first guard finished, a second one steps up and applies shave cream to my head. He is quickly raking the cream off with a razor, leaving my head smooth, bare and white. Next, the chair is adjusted by lowering the back and raising the legs so that my body is now parallel to the floor. Two guards are expertly shaving my legs, chest, and pubic area. Soon I am smooth, even I like this feeling. Like a precision drill team, two of the guards unstrap my legs. Then the two guards each grab an ankle and pull my heels up until they contacted my buttocks.
The paramedic is called: "OK, it’s time for you to administer the enema." Working quickly and with purpose he comes over with a plastic pouch coupled to a hose. He inserts the hose into my rectum and I feel warm fluid filling my guts. It's not bad, I like this sensation. Shortly he removes the hose, and says "This will start to work in a few minutes." Soon a growl is my bowels and I know the enema was working. They unbuckle me, help me off the chair and lead to the stainless steel toilet. I sit hunched on the toilet with handcuffs on the wrists and purge my intestines.
I am sitting for about 10 minutes. "If you can pee, you’d better do that too” hear from a guard and obey.
Then I am given a glass of still water to drink, my handcuffs are removed and I am motioned towards the shower. My nakedness is accentuated by the absence of normal body hair and there is no door or curtain on the shower stall. All of the men in the room stare at me as I stand beneath the flow. The water feel strange striking my bald head and hairless body, and I think to myself, "This is the last shower I will ever take, in fact it is the last worldly act I’ll perform." My last pleasure is brutally interrupted by a loud voice: "Come on, boy!" I step out the shower and face a group of masked men getting ready to escort me to the death chamber. My body is wet still, thus I am felling chilly.
A guard makes me bend forward as the paramedic quickly inserts cotton balls into my rectum. "It's for your dignity, don't worry" he is smiling "You're not going to make a mess now". I put the single use g-string again. My hands are cuffed in the back, and heavy irons are put on my bare ankles. "You're a well-built, hunky guy. I'd like to have such nice physique" I hear. "OK boy, it’s time to get going!" They grab my arms and extract out of the preparation room. "You'd better not resist, just keep walking and show you're a man" someone whispers to my ear. So I take a deep breath and make the first step towards unavoidable destiny.
"Dead Man Walking" it is announced loudly.
Thus today is different, I face one way walk. I will never came back again. I will have to serve my ordeal – death by electrocution. I am looking up at a simple light above my head. The bare bulb is radiating harsh light. I consider the simplicity of the light and the whole room. The three walls of the cell room are grey, the remaining one is just a moving bar panel. I look at my plastic watch. It's 5 am. Three hours left, my execution is scheduled at 8 am. Now I start to feel nervous knot in my stomach, I got jittery. What is going to happen? What will it feel like? Why me? I can hear steps approaching my asylum to interrupt sentimental review of my life. The bars are being unlocked and a group of armed and masked guards enter my cell. They are all tall, muscular men, I cannot see their faces, they look so brutal and impersonal.
“Sorry boy, it's time.”
My initial reaction is to flee, but I know that won't work, so resign to being cooperative.
"Please remove your clothes, your watch, and any other items and place them in this sack" – I am instructed with a motion toward the fresh plastic bag just placed the left on my bunk. I stand up and take off my white tank top. Then undo my orange trousers. They slip off as usual. I realize that this is the last time I will be taking off my own pants. As socks are forbidden I wear only my white cotton boxers, I like so much. Slip them off and slowly place with the rest of your cloths in the bag.
"Stand up and bend over away from me." I hear and obey.
I can feel finger in my rectum being checked for any foreign devices. This is routine and frequent procedure in prison, applied always when an inmate leaves or enters back the holding cell, I am accustomed to it. Actually my rectum had been searched for thousands of times. The law enforces to protect inmates' dignity, so total nakedness is forbidden. I am given polyesther disposable g-string. “Put it on now!” I obey and inspect this tiny, transparent triangle which exposes my growing manhood.
Now one of the guards handcuffs my hands in front while the other puts shackles on my ankles. Each guard takes an arm, extracting me out of the cell. There are some other people waiting for me: guards, a priest and some officials. My nakedness contrast with their uniforms and boots.
"You don’t have to hold me, I’m not going to resist you." I say pleadingly feeling gloved hands on my arms. We start to walk down the corridor, pass through a barred door and stop at a solid steel door along the right hand wall marked "Preparation Room". The door opens to reveal a large room. Inside I can see stark walls and what looks like a barber’s chair in the center of the room. Along one wall is a stainless steel sink, a stainless steel toilet, and in the corner a shower stall. Another guard is standing near a cart full of utensils. Also waiting inside is paramedic in a white smock wearing glasses and a stethoscope.
The guards escort me over to the chair, turn me around, and remove my chains. The seat of the chair, the back and the legs are in separate articulating sections and each section has straps hanging from them. One of the guards pulls a leather strap around my waist and buckles it. Another straps my left arm and left leg to their respective portions of the chair while the other guard secures my right arm and leg.
Things are beginning to happen very quickly now. One of the guards produces a set of electric hair clippers. With several quick swipes of the clippers my medium length dark hair lay on the floor beside the chair. As soon as the first guard finished, a second one steps up and applies shave cream to my head. He is quickly raking the cream off with a razor, leaving my head smooth, bare and white. Next, the chair is adjusted by lowering the back and raising the legs so that my body is now parallel to the floor. Two guards are expertly shaving my legs, chest, and pubic area. Soon I am smooth, even I like this feeling. Like a precision drill team, two of the guards unstrap my legs. Then the two guards each grab an ankle and pull my heels up until they contacted my buttocks.
The paramedic is called: "OK, it’s time for you to administer the enema." Working quickly and with purpose he comes over with a plastic pouch coupled to a hose. He inserts the hose into my rectum and I feel warm fluid filling my guts. It's not bad, I like this sensation. Shortly he removes the hose, and says "This will start to work in a few minutes." Soon a growl is my bowels and I know the enema was working. They unbuckle me, help me off the chair and lead to the stainless steel toilet. I sit hunched on the toilet with handcuffs on the wrists and purge my intestines.
I am sitting for about 10 minutes. "If you can pee, you’d better do that too” hear from a guard and obey.
Then I am given a glass of still water to drink, my handcuffs are removed and I am motioned towards the shower. My nakedness is accentuated by the absence of normal body hair and there is no door or curtain on the shower stall. All of the men in the room stare at me as I stand beneath the flow. The water feel strange striking my bald head and hairless body, and I think to myself, "This is the last shower I will ever take, in fact it is the last worldly act I’ll perform." My last pleasure is brutally interrupted by a loud voice: "Come on, boy!" I step out the shower and face a group of masked men getting ready to escort me to the death chamber. My body is wet still, thus I am felling chilly.
A guard makes me bend forward as the paramedic quickly inserts cotton balls into my rectum. "It's for your dignity, don't worry" he is smiling "You're not going to make a mess now". I put the single use g-string again. My hands are cuffed in the back, and heavy irons are put on my bare ankles. "You're a well-built, hunky guy. I'd like to have such nice physique" I hear. "OK boy, it’s time to get going!" They grab my arms and extract out of the preparation room. "You'd better not resist, just keep walking and show you're a man" someone whispers to my ear. So I take a deep breath and make the first step towards unavoidable destiny.
"Dead Man Walking" it is announced loudly.
