Confessions of an Innocent Man

“You had better execute me. If you do not, you will always live in fear, for if one day I am free,
I will hunt you down and your family. I will first kill your children while you watch. Then I will
kill your wives. Then I will castrate you and break your back, leaving you alive, alone, and
powerless, to bear witness to my handiwork.” These are not the words of the merciless torturer, 
but instead are those from the tortured. 

I am not quite sure where my interest for jailhouse reading originated, but despite the mysterious
origins I have a hard time leaving them alone.  My interest in this genre often confuses friends
and family who know me as a somewhat peaceful and caring person who has a hard time even killing
household insects. Perhaps my interest is due to the fascination of these stories being told in
the first person narrative. I doubt I would have any interest in reading about general prison abuse
written in the third person. Ultimately, I read these stories to be taken to the darkest places of
humanity where I dare not imagine going myself. 

The horrifying story of William Sampson’s imprisonment in a Saudi prison accomplishes my objective
for this type of reading, but I was not prepared for the emotionally wrenching details of the physical
and psychological abuse that was subjected to this innocent man. The horror is realizing that the cruel
and extreme punishment was directed towards a person who was as disconnected from the crime as I was. 

Confessions of an Innocent Man is not light reading and I would not recommend it to anybody who is presently
recovering from physical, psychological, or sexual abuse. Yes, to me it is written in graphic detail that
forces me to question the human spirit at times. The details of torture are numerous and at times too
detailed for younger readers.  However, I would highly suggest this book to anybody who desires an insight
into the mind of an innocent victim and what it takes to overcome constant torture for a crime that was never
committed. 

“It is strange how at times I can be coldly cynical and accepting of my own fate, but find more
distressing the pain and suffering of others” says William to provide insight to his mental labyrinth
during the two year imprisonment.  When not detailing his inner workings, he provides a hint into
the nightmare that at times overcomes him, “I had no desire to harm or punish, just a naked atavistic
lust for their blood. Whatever I would have done had the opportunity arrived, it would have been brutal,
uncontrolled, and savage. All I sought was to bathe myself in their blood as I snuffled out their
misbegotten existence. Never in my life had I felt such rage. Never in my life have I felt such a need to
kill.” As you can tell, this book shares with the reader a complete cerebral picture of the innocent victim.
 
Overall, this book receives 9 pizza slices out of a 10 piece pie. I am sure we all know the feeling of
eating too much of a good thing and then becoming sick after consuming just a few bites too much…and
then never wanting to eat that item ever again in the future. The 10th slice is purposely missing
from this review due to reading too much of detailed torture that I actually did get ill and was forced
to put down the book from time to time. Surprisingly, the book concludes with the only thing that could
possibly repair the experience: love.