Execution of a Ghost
The look on my mother's face. Of all the terrible things that have happened, that's the worst. Do you know what it feels like for the person that gave birth to you, raised you, kissed your boo-boos and celebrated your accomplishments to look at you like that? For the woman who loved you unconditionally for 23 years to look at you like you are a stranger. Worse than a stranger. A strange piece of filth clinging to her shoes. That your own mother could believe you hurt those little girls? As I sit here, I can't think of anything else.
The crime doesn't matter. Not really. Not to me. What they say I did has absolutely no impact on the situation I'm in. I'm going to die, by electric chair, and I'm innocent. I know, I know; most every prisoner says they're innocent. Hell, some probably even are. I know I am. The only crime I'm guilty of is being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
That doesn't matter to me anymore either. During the trial I fought vehemently against the allegations. I was innocent God Damnit! Now though, as I sit in my cell waiting for the final walk, it doesn't matter. If a judge burst into my cell right now wearing nothing but a sparkly speedo and nipple tassels, and handed me a pardon granted by the Dalai Lama himself written on baby seal fur, my life would still be over. Because of my mom. That look doesn't ever go away. The second the judge banged his gavel and barked out, "guilty," my life was over.
What kind of life is there for a person convicted of a crime so heinous? I try to imagine sitting down to thanksgiving dinner. no one looks at me unless I speak directly to them. Even then its awkward and quick. "He was convicted," is on everyone's mind but never makes it to their lips. their smiles never quite reaching their eyes. No, once you've been convicted, there is no going back. No normal life.
It's funny, as I sit in this chair with my arms and legs strapped down, a conductive helmet strapped on my head; I thought my life would flash before my eyes. That's what always happens on the TV. Some sort of collage or montage. In subdued sepia tones I would see my first steps, my first words, my first day of school, my first kiss, the time we drove all night to get a look at the Aurora Borealis. None of that happened. No slideshow of my time here on earth. As my jailer grabbed the switch the only thing that passed before my eyes, burning into my retinas, was my mother's face. Tears slide down my cheeks. I died thirteen years ago when i was convicted. My body is just catching up.
Afterlife
I've heard wise men say that people are not afraid of death. What they truly fear is dying without ever truly having lived. I can understand the sentiment, even appreciate the moral lesson. Live life to it's fullest. Live every day as if it was your last. As I lay here however, powerless to move or speak, in a wooden prison six feet underground, let me tell you; it truly is death that you should fear.
Illuminated
Perfection. A word used too often without just cause, bandied about with recklessness. I found out its true meaning. In her. The girl with sangune hair. A bright red star shining it's light on a gray and dreary existence.
My world was certainly gray. Not just my surroundings, although that too. Every person I saw was just a sack stuffed with dust, shambling around with a semblance of life. They would shake my hand and say, "how do you do?" It took everything I had not to rip open the sack and let their dust scatter to the winds. I was suffocating, buried in an avalanche of cold, gray, meaningless human filth.
The first time I met her the sun broke through the clouds for the first time in my life. No dingy sack here. No grime clinging to her, no repressive filth clogging my nostrils and coating my tongue. Here was a ruby, shining like fire, castings it's glow on my face, warming my bones from within. After several heartbeats (lifetimes?) filled with wonder and adoration, fear rippled through. Squeezing the air from my lungs in a grip stronger than steel. The world would suffocate her. Snuff out her light. Without someone to protect her, without a guardian she wouldn't survive. this world would swallow her up. She needed someone, she needed me. No harm would come upon her, nothing would ever touch a single red hair on her head.
The first time my duty required action I was anxious. Did I have the strength to do what needed to be done? I found that I did. A sack man assaulted her outside her apartment. Whistling and calling out obscene words. Gesturing his crude desires to mate. My anger seethed inside of me, begging for release. I held it in check. Mere words cant harm a goddess. Then he smacked her on the ass as she went by. My rage turned cold. That night, after she was safe and sound, asleep in her bed, I went looking. I found it at the bar down the block, guzzling beer and chain smoking cheap cigarettes. I followed it when it left, stumbling and singing. It fll through the door and fell unconscious on the floor of it's hovel. My knife was quick. The gray ash flowed quickly from the sack, pooling on the cheap linoleum. I had to discard my clothes, dirt like that just doesn't wash out. i dumped its body in the river and went home. i slept peacefully that night. she was safe.
My duty called for action eleven more times in the following months. Each sack of shit put out of my misery. Punished for their crimes. But it wasn't all bad, wasn't just about destroying those that would harm her.
Watching her glorious steps around the city brought new meaning to my life. Existence wasn't quite so gray, so dreary. I was no longer insignificant, I was an angel, a God, the Shepherd protecting his lamb from the terrors of the dark. My ward went though life unsuspecting of her silent protector. Or so I thought.
Tonight started like any other. She clocked out and walked to the bus stop. I followed with my usual deference. Boarding at the back as she boarded from the front. At her stop we got off and I blended with the crowd behind her. Followed her to her complex. Then she did something unusual. She passed by her door and headed for the alley. I followed with caution. Turned the corner, and found myself staring down the barrel of a gun.
"I don't know who you are, but you need to leave me alone."
The words stung like acid, burning through my mind.
"I'm just here for you. To protect you. Fear not my child, nothing can harm you." The words came out quiet, distraught.
"I don't need your protection you freak. Quit being such a pervert and leave me the hell alone."
The world collapsed in a deafening roar.
I trembled. How could I have been so wrong. Looking closely I could see her clearly. How had she tricked me? There was no fire, no gentle glow. She was just a stupid sack, all made up with red spray paint. She was never a ruby at all, just a common rock painted bright red. As my eyes finally pierced the veil of her deceit my whole world changed colors. The smudgy gray landscape shifted and became a glowing red ember in the corner of my vision. Soon the whole damned world was red. That lying whore had to pay for her fraudulence. I dedicated my life to her. She promised salvation. She lied. my knife was out before she could react. Her dust filled the alleyway. Bright red dust.
0003 READS
Written by Lazarus_Long
6 minutes ago
Illuminated
Perfection. A word used too often without just cause, bandied about with recklessness. I found out its true meaning. In her. The girl with sangune hair. A bright red star shining it's light on a gray and dreary existence.
My world was certainly gray. Not just my surroundings, although that too. Every person I saw was just a sack stuffed with dust, shambling around with a semblance of life. They would shake my hand and say, "how do you do?" It took everything I had not to rip open the sack and let their dust scatter to the winds. I was suffocating, buried in an avalanche of cold, gray, meaningless human filth.
The first time I met her the sun broke through the clouds for the first time in my life. No dingy sack here. No grime clinging to her, no repressive filth clogging my nostrils and coating my tongue. Here was a ruby, shining like fire, castings it's glow on my face, warming my bones from within. After several heartbeats (lifetimes?) filled with wonder and adoration, fear rippled through. Squeezing the air from my lungs in a grip stronger than steel. The world would suffocate her. Snuff out her light. Without someone to protect her, without a guardian she wouldn't survive. this world would swallow her up. She needed someone, she needed me. No harm would come upon her, nothing would ever touch a single red hair on her head.
The first time my duty required action I was anxious. Did I have the strength to do what needed to be done? I found that I did. A sack man assaulted her outside her apartment. Whistling and calling out obscene words. Gesturing his crude desires to mate. My anger seethed inside of me, begging for release. I held it in check. Mere words cant harm a goddess. Then he smacked her on the ass as she went by. My rage turned cold. That night, after she was safe and sound, asleep in her bed, I went looking. I found it at the bar down the block, guzzling beer and chain smoking cheap cigarettes. I followed it when it left, stumbling and singing. It fll through the door and fell unconscious on the floor of it's hovel. My knife was quick. The gray ash flowed quickly from the sack, pooling on the cheap linoleum. I had to discard my clothes, dirt like that just doesn't wash out. i dumped its body in the river and went home. i slept peacefully that night. she was safe.
My duty called for action eleven more times in the following months. Each sack of shit put out of my misery. Punished for their crimes. But it wasn't all bad, wasn't just about destroying those that would harm her.
Watching her glorious steps around the city brought new meaning to my life. Existence wasn't quite so gray, so dreary. I was no longer insignificant, I was an angel, a God, the Shepherd protecting his lamb from the terrors of the dark. My ward went though life unsuspecting of her silent protector. Or so I thought.
Tonight started like any other. She clocked out and walked to the bus stop. I followed with my usual deference. Boarding at the back as she boarded from the front. At her stop we got off and I blended with the crowd behind her. Followed her to her complex. Then she did something unusual. She passed by her door and headed for the alley. I followed with caution. Turned the corner, and found myself staring down the barrel of a gun.
"I don't know who you are, but you need to leave me alone."
The words stung like acid, burning through my mind.
"I'm just here for you. To protect you. Fear not my child, nothing can harm you." The words came out quiet, distraught.
"I don't need your protection you freak. Quit being such a pervert and leave me the hell alone."
The world collapsed in a deafening roar.
I trembled. How could I have been so wrong. Looking closely I could see her clearly. How had she tricked me? There was no fire, no gentle glow. She was just a stupid sack, all made up with red spray paint. She was never a ruby at all, just a common rock painted bright red. As my eyes finally pierced the veil of her deceit my whole world changed colors. The smudgy gray landscape shifted and became a glowing red ember in the corner of my vision. Soon the whole damned world was red. That lying whore had to pay for her fraudulence. I dedicated my life to her. She promised salvation. She lied. my knife was out before she could react. Her dust filled the alleyway. Bright red dust.
0003 READS
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