Privilege Lost
Get a Look at Life on the Inside
The true first-hand account of an “everyday nice guy” who had to fight for his life among some of the most violent and dangerous men alive, in some of the grimmest cages in the world. This gripping memoir explores the horrific violence he endured, traversing the bridge between adrenaline-pumping life and death moments and those deeply introspective agonies where Joshua came face to face with the reality behind his fantasies.
Based On True Stories and Real Events
Like Piper Kerman’s story Orange Is the New Black, this shocking story is a true account of life on the inside of world’s darkest prisons- as experienced by someone who does not fit the norm or the stereotype.
Order your copy of "Privilege Lost" now and embark on this extraordinary literary journey. Available everywhere books are sold.
Joshua Elyashiv, The Author
Joshua is the author of the upcoming book "Privilege Lost" which tells the true story of survival of one unique man inside the world's darkest prisons
Excerpt from my Upcoming Memoir, Privilege Lost
I swear they broke my jaw. It was so swollen that I couldn’t cry out. I couldn’t scream for help, I couldn’t beg for my mother, I couldn’t even whisper the words, "I’m sorry.” I knew that today was going to be the day that I died; this was when they were finally going to kill me. I tried to curl into a fetal position to protect as much of myself as possible. I wasn’t very successful though, because my hands were cuffed behind my back and my feet were shackled together while four men kicked me with combat boots and steel toed shoes. Fire lanced from my fingers to my shoulders as one of them stomped on my hands and the handcuffs bit further into my wrists. I tried to swallow the vomit that came up immediately after a boot connected with my kidney because I knew that if I got puke on any of the men the beatings would intensify. I tried desperately not to make a sound as the tears streamed down my face. There was an explosion of pain in my head, and everything went dark.
Despite the pounding in my head and the throbbing in my jaw that was ballooned to the size of Texas, I tried to open my eyes; one of them was swollen shut but the other opened after an eternity of trying. White. All I saw was white. I realized that I was facedown and the white that I was seeing was the corner between the concrete wall and the floor, inches from my face. I slowly, gingerly pushed myself up into a sitting position while the world spun. It took a few seconds to remember where I was. This was the second time that I had been beaten unconscious today, I think. Although I don’t remember how I got back here, I was back. Again.
I was in a concrete box, approximately 7’ x 10’ with a stainless-steel toilet on one wall and a rusty steel bunk on the other wall. A cloudy 6“ x 6“ Plexiglass window allowed a small amount of light into the box from the solid steel door. I gently massaged my wrists as I recognized that I was back in the cell. As I glanced down at myself, I saw that there were fresh blood stains on the front of my shirt and I realized that my lip, my nose, and my swollen-shut eye were bleeding. I thought it was Tuesday, but I wasn’t sure. I also thought it was August, but it could have been September. And I guessed that it was late afternoon because I had only been beaten twice so far and the evening crew had not arrived to have their go. My lips were cracked, and I was so thirsty. Unbearably thirsty. They had had the water to the cell turned off for a week, maybe longer. As I stood up to go drink from the toilet bowl, I collapsed onto the floor when my knee gave out from the torn ACL. I took a moment to just lay there on the floor. Everything hurt too much to attempt getting up again. My stomach grumbled, and I couldn’t remember the last time I had something to eat. Was it two weeks ago that I was given a slice of white bread to eat, or three? I wasn’t entirely sure.