The Punishment

Tw: prison, death penalty

I stood there, my legs trembling as I tried to step forwards. The court members bared their teeth like rabid animals, leering at me and making me shrink backwards. One foot in front of the other.

I had never been close enough to the front of the line to hear or see what went on. I had always just stood there, day after day, watching the line creep ever forwards. I had waited years for this moment, planning, hoping, praying, but my hopes had been poured down the drain.

It wasn't a bad place we were held in. We had our cells, if you could really call them that, with our roommate. We each had our own bed and much to my surprise, there was even a separate area for the bathroom.

We had breakfast in the hall before being let into the yard. I had expected concrete and barbed wire atop fences, but there was none. There was grass and trees and a small pond in the middle with bright orange fish swimming through the crystal clear water.

There was a library with all the books you could ask for and an art room that was always filled with gentle souls spilling out onto canvases. It was nothing like I had been told prison was. It was a prison in some senses, but in far too many others, it was a home.

And then there was the time in the lines. We were assigned a number when we arrived based on our crime and the time of conviction and lined up accordingly. We were in groups of ten and only once everyone in the group had been executed would the next group of ten step forward. But the process was slow and only taking place on hour per day, few people even spoke to the court.

I had been there for just over three years before today. I had a roommate when I arrived, an old and grizzled lady who looked at me with faded grey eyes, worn down by a lifetime of pain. When we first met, I had tried to explain that I was innocent, that I had committed no crime, but she took my hands in hers and simply explained that it was what everyone said. And it was true. I had never met anybody in the facility to admitted their guilt. But it wasn't fair. I was innocent.

That lady had been near the front of the line for some time now, but each night she returned, looking more and more broken, until one day she never came back. And I was greeted by my new roommate.

A small girl with shining eyes and flowing silver hair. She hadn't even tried to explain her innocence that first night, just curled up and went to sleep. Eventually, she began to open up. Her name was Anna and she was only 17, I soon came to realize. I wondered what horrible crime she must have committed to be sentenced to death at such a young age.

We had grown close, Anna and me, and she became like a little sister to me. We had never been close enough to the front to know what went on so of course we had hope. We plotted ways around our sentence like all the prisoners did and when it was finally my turn, I was filled with hope.

But as I saw the man before me turn to dust, I felt my heart sink and a sob caught in my throat. There was no way out. Nothing I could have said would save me.

I stood before the court, my eyes nearly spilling over with tears and fell to my knees. I begged for my life, begged that I was innocent, that I didn't deserve to die. And then there was a voice, hissing in my ear, and with two words, shattering the last bit of hope that still burned in my chest.

I felt my blood run cold, just staring up at the court from the floor, their icy eyes boring holes in mine. Then the bell rang and I watched as the group faded into a silver mist. I was alive another day. 

I trudged back to my cell to meet Anna, who was several groups behind me in line, my head spinning. There was no escape. It had become all to clear that I would have to kneel there on the floor and beg for my life, only to stall for time. Time for me and for the people in the group behind me whom I had grown close to in those many hours we stood in line.

The boy behind me, he was still a boy really, had broken down in tears. He knew. The rest of our group knew. We knew why they never tried to stop our plans of escape. Because there was none. Just a waiting game, to see how long the person in front of you could take it before it was your turn.

I considered telling Anna. Telling her that there was no escape. There was no hope. But then I remembered my first roommate. Her sunken grey eyes and beaten down body. How she never told me a thing even though I was sure she had been at the front for quite some time. How I had been able to continue to live, feeding off of the hope of one day being free.

Now I knew why nobody ever told, why the older prisoners continued to keep their mouths shut, alive but void of all life. I couldn't take away that hope from Anna. She had to continue to live, even though I no longer could. That voice continued to echo in my ear, whispering "I know" over and over and I finally realized my punishment.

If you don't understand this story, I don't know what to tell you because I don't either. But it was fun to write and the prompt was interesting so I went with it, even if my original vision didn't hold up. Oh well, have a great day my dudes!

- Your friendly neighbourhood secret author <3