The guillotine

The guillotine

A Story by Jason

 

The men in the dark drab that was draped on their large frames stood over me as I knelt. They bound my hands behind me, as did my ankles. Staring into a basket of blood I began to make my peace with my god. Praying for strength, hoping for eternal life. The crowd, full of bystanders; (hypocrites), stood as they gawked and moaned with there children at their sides. I could hear the woman under their dainty, frivolous voices, “Oh my, what a horrible man. Surely he will pay the price in hell.” I snarled at the beguiled statements and I maintained as I waited. The smell of the spilled blood reminded me that ‘guilty’ was a much stronger word than innocent. I knew, as the rows of sinners amongst sinners stared in at me, waiting my fate that the real truth hid behind the eyes in one of them- That they held my true fate. Not the blade that looked down from 10 feet above the nape of my neck. Not the man in the black robe, holding the rope, holding my last breath in his hands, patiently waiting the word on when the truth, the injustice; may drop down upon me, ending my freedom. The truth had indeed been kept inside of a gasp of the true criminal. For he would have to exhale, sooner or later, and let his breath be the symbol of the corruption the law has laid onto me. Yes, truth be told, whether my head lie body-less in a wicker, with a clean cut at the neck, severed from my shoulders, or if I was to walk upright once more, my chin held above my feet, attached, as I breathe in the free air. It would be any minute now... The dark dressed figure would make his apology as I held him with no fault as he is doing his job. The blade, now was held higher as the moment would come to be soon. I thought of my childhood, the innocence of youth, how it was to walk into the fields of dandelions and make my way to the babbling brooks for fresh water, unhindered- and a callow young boy. And how my mother would call me in for di
 
 
THE END

© 2008 Jason


Author's Note

Jason
Please read part II, which isn't really a part two as much as it is a different perspective

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Featured Review

Amazing piece of work.
It really put me in the old days when they would use the guillotine.
My favorite part is how you described the crowd because it was like that in the medieval days. Someone who was your best friend would be at the front of the line to see you die.
It is really interesting and it makes me wonder what happened to get this man here and who is the real criminal? What happened to him?

It's great. It makes me want more.

Posted 11 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

I love the way you ended that! What better way to show that the end had come than by ending his life mid thought. Very creative!

Posted 11 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Very unique voice.

Posted 11 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

wow. i loved this one. in fact i think i will feature you next week in the Ink group. truly one of the better pieces i have read on here. it stood out like a sore thumb amidst the whiny same as everyone else bullshit that is all over the place here. Yours is unique, and i like that. so i have nothing bad to say other than minor grammar which i am not one to talk about anyway..lol

Posted 11 Years Ago



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Added on March 3, 2008
Last Updated on April 17, 2008

Author

Jason
Jason

Pasadena, CA



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