Rikers Island Nightmare: Descent Into Life, Dream, and Death for Daniel Hyden

Since the day Daniel Hyden crashed his car into a crowd of NYC partygoers, killing four people, he says the only relief he’s had from the nightmare is when he’s asleep.

The story of Daniel Hyden begins with a tragic July 4 crash in New York City that killed four people. Since that day, Daniel Hyden has struggled to distinguish between life, dream, and death—recounting the haunting reality of incarceration at Rikers Island.

This Can’t Be Life: Hyden in Court

My eyes open to a Manhattan Superior Court judge who resembles the Quaker Oats man. “Bail denied,” the judge sternly announces. “I remand you to the custody of the New York City Department of Correction.”

Being accused of four counts of second-degree murder with depraved indifference, held without bail, then sent to one of the worst jails in America, can’t really be my life.

I believe there are three states of being: Life, Dream, and Death. For me, things fall apart when I can’t differentiate between these shifting states of existence.

This Can’t Be a Dream: Hyden at Rikers

At the Otis Bantum Correctional Center (OBCC), one of Rikers Island’s jails, 60 men are packed into a dorm, each sleeping an arm’s length away. I lie awake, listening to the orchestra of snores and flatulence, and wonder how this can be real.

Dreams become a rare escape from incarceration, and drugs that induce sleep are coveted. I watch and listen as men around me cry, murmur, and whimper in their sleep—haunted by crimes, regrets, and victims. I wonder if I, too, cry in my dreams.

Is This Death? Hyden’s Recurring Hell

My eyes open to carnage—blood, screams, and the beating from an angry mob after the crash. For every blackout, there’s a white-in, which returns me to Rikers.

Correctional institutions are perfect incubators for nightmares, where despair feeds suicidal ideation. I live in a recurring loop of daymares and nightmares, trapped in a cycle of reliving tragedy.

This must be death. Or maybe it’s limbo.

The Trichotomy of Existence

Jails and prisons are dehumanization centers, designed to strip people of identity and agency. In this Hyden nightmare, there’s powerlessness in both Life and Death. Only in Dream is there reprieve.

For me and other incarcerated individuals, dreams are survival. They’re the only part of existence that can’t be stripped away or dehumanized. By nightmare or daydream, by midnight REM or fleeting escape, reconciliation, redemption, and vindication are birthed in Dream.

Want to read more? Check out There’s an Epidemic of PTSD in Prisons