I had to imagine that their road back home was long, almost endless. Living on the outskirts of the city had its perks, but it was a pain to get to. On my first and last visit, I remembered seeing the ghoulish figure of the trees, moaning and groaning to the wind, almost as if they were whining. This winter was especially harsh, with its tsunami like wind and its numbing temperatures. But it wasn’t just the temperature that numbed my thoughts. How could I do that? Such a garish crime, to the one I loved? How did I dare? I quickly pushed the thought to the back of my mind, but it wouldn’t budge. Like a stubborn child, it threw a tantrum, refusing to leave. So I let it engulf me. It took me in its icy grip, icier than the temperature, and let it swallow me whole. Why was I letting it happen? I didn’t know. Maybe because I finally found my morality or maybe because it was my last few minutes. But it felt good. Soothing almost. It freed my numb fingers and let a surge of rage and emotion flow through them. At the end of it, was it worth it? Hurting someone, to damage and bruise them, to cut them and deprive them of emotion? I would never know.
I looked around my cell. It was bare. Stained with crimson of past crimes, holding secrets more tragic and horrible than mine. I looked in front of me. White. The irony amused me and i whipped my hair back and laughed and for that one second, my mind was finally free from the thoughts that haunted it. The cell guard stared at me, at the shackles that bound me. He looked disinterested. Of course, I wasn’t the first. There were others before me, who had sucked him void of emotions and left him plain. Emotionless. Tired. I wished to take his place, free from the shackles physically and the ones that bound my mind. Maybe in a few minutes, I would be free and it frightened me. These would be my last few moments. I would die, not as a patron of good but a symbol for evil. My image would be spit on. It would be shouted at for my brutality, but what could be done now? Nothing. The only thing to do was let my actions swell me up with regret and take my rightful position.
Honestly, I had no idea why I did it. It’s like the adrenaline and the alcohol surged me. It swept me up to the euphoria of the clouds and made me see only the sunny part of my crime.I now vividly remember her face. The horror. The shock. Her agony. Everything had now transcended onto me, as a punishment. I remember walking through her old mahogany door into the bright living room. She sat there peacefully next to him watching. She looked serene. She was the perfect embodiment of grace and harmony. When she was happy she swayed with the trees and when she was mad, she could conjure up a horrible storm. But the serenity dissipated when she heard the sound. Seconds before, my hands trembled and shivered, seconds after I couldn’t feel it. My hand went limp. My rifle, once cocked up with pride, fell down on the floor, shattering any pride it once held. I keenly watched the bullet rotate, like a small hummingbird with the strength of a thousand elephants. It tossed and turned like a sleepless child, as time slowed down, forcing me to reflect on my actions. Finally it crept up into her, and broke everything. It broke the peace, it broke her trust and broke my life. Soon after, the shouting followed. Loud screams of torment and pain. He ran towards me and broke down. He hugged me like I was his very own sister, looking for even the most remote sense of sympathy. But I had none to offer. She has extracted every one bit from me. I nudged him to get a glass of water, but he remained unmoving, like her. A tear rolled down my face, whether it was pain or happiness, I didn’t know. For the sake of him and his family, I hoped it was pain. I now wonder, how they feel returning to the same house, where dried blood fell of their once beautiful house.
The gate creaked open, and the cell guard burst through my thoughts. He instructed me to follow him and as I got out, the metal clanged against everything I walked through. My path was no better than the annoying clang. Inmates shouted and howled praises and curses as I dragged my way through. And eternity finally allowed me to reach the room. Blank. White. Ghostly. One chair and one light would be my final sight.
In front of me, sat no one. No one cared enough to show up.No one cared of my existence at all. Oh well, how did that affect me anymore? My same cell guard stood in front of me, his boredom was back. Next to him stood a strange man, in a black mask holding a long syringe. The syringe I would blame for my ultimate demise. I looked in front again in the hopes that someone would show up, that my eyes had tricked me and people cared.
The guard looked at me, and with a monotonous voice managed to get out instructions and patiently waited for me to carry them out. Briefly he had a conversation with the man in the mask, something not too happy I inferred. They looked at me and asked “anyone coming to watch?” Surprised by my inability to speak, I chocked out the word “no.” The guard still showed no sympathy. He strapped me into the chair and asked “any last words?” and without a thought or doubt I screamed out “she wasn’t the only one and I have no regrets.” Soon after, the world transitioned into black.
