Twenty Five On Death Row [Short Story]

A set of feet shuffled quietly across an empty corridor, while men dressed in orange jumpsuits stared silently through iron bars. A man, weighed down by heavy chains, walked at a slow pace, with his head held high, Read to face his punishment.

Two guards on either side of this prisoner gripped him tightly as they walked towards the end of a dim lit corridor. Metal bats gripped also within their free hands, Prepared incase of any trouble which seemed to always break out when a man walked this very path. This man looked nervous and so he should be, for what was about to happen will never be forgotten.

This man of only twenty five had committed an unforgivable crime, taking the life of his innocent and caring wife. He had pleaded not guilty to all charges as he said he did it out of pure love. He had been sentenced to death, and today was his final day.

Each step this man took through the cold, dark and lonely corridor was another second of this precious life wasted, wasted into nothing more then the past. The handcuffs bolted tightly around his frail wrists, made it impossible for him to move his arms, Yet the bolted chains around his legs made it even harder to take his final steps of life.

As this man finally reaches his destination at the end of the corridor, his tense brown eyes darken, just like a rain cloud on a stormy winters night. His broad shoulders stiffen as he comes face to face with a nightmare that has been replaying in the back of his mind for weeks. The realization of what is going to happen finally sinks in as the door to his destination is opened, a door known as a portal to hell.

His olive skin become pale, as his eyes travel to what will bring him to this grave,
He gulps silently as many faces watch him with evil smirks of destruction. He thinks to himself, so this is what they call hell. His thoughts travel to his wifes face. He can imagine her long golden hair shining in the sun, and her ocean blue eyes glistening.

Suddenly his thoughts are shattered away as he is pulled forward by the thick metal chain, which is keeping him so dreadfully bound. This man is treated as a convict, Worthless. His hearts pace starts to quicken as he is told to take a step up onto the thick wooden box. His eyes tightly squeezed shut, as cold hands grasp his neck. This unknown person places something around his tender throat.

The man finally realizes what was placed over his head; he feels the rope digging into the muscles of his neck. He tries to block out what is happening to him, while the Warden asks him for his final words. With a gasp of air he screams, "Remember this, I died for love!" as the wooden box which is placed so carefully underneath him is kicked away. This man is left to hand for his unforgivable crime. He was just twenty five, on death row.

All these people who watched his soul escape his body as he died; saw him as a murderer, a cold blooded killer with no remorse. Little did these people know that this man's wife was in nothing but utter pain, her golden locks no longer shined and her ocean blue eyes had turned to mist. She had cancer, which had spread throughout her entire body, leaving her to suffer and eventually die.

She had begged her husband to set her free, Take her life and let her die at ease without this agonizing pain she had been going through. She said she had nothing left to gain and it had been her last wish in life. So was this an act of a cold blooded killer, or an act of love?