Forgetting the Murder

29: Goodbyes

There goes the alarm. It's exactly seven o'clock in the morning. It was supposed to wake me up, but how can someone be woken if they never fell asleep? I uncurl myself from my defensive position on the windowsill, missing it already as I make my way over to my wardrobe.

I have stayed up all night preparing myself for this day, and yet I'm still not ready. I still want to run away and hide, but I know I can't.

On my wardrobe door hangs a plain black dress, with lace detail and a button-up collar, suitable for the occasion. I slowly slip it on, too tired to make much movement. After I pull on a matching black shrug I enter my bathroom to try and tidy myself up.

I stare in the mirror but do not recognise the person staring back at me. The person in the mirror has messy hair, dark circles under her eyes and is even paler than myself. I reach my hand up and touch my cheek and realise that it really is me. My eyes are really that tired looking and my skin is really that shade of white. A sigh escapes my lips as I reach down to the sink before splashing cold water around my face.

I clean myself up and tug a hair brush through the birds nest I call hair, but I do not put on any make-up. As much as I want to look my best, I want everyone to see me for who I really am for this one day.

I can barely see straight, and my limbs are weak, but I have never felt this awake. I do not regret anything about last night. I could've spent the night sleeping, but what good would that be? I had to remember, as memories are the only thing I have left.

I look for something to eat, but nothing appeals to me. It's not that I'm not hungry, I just can't find the taste for food. If other people have to suffer today, so will I.

I am forty-five minutes early, but I can't wait around my apartment any longer. I leave my flat and make my way towards my car, where I'll make the journey that will define the rest of my life.

I'm sure it is a hazard for me to be driving this particular morning, but I don't want to be with anyone else but myself today. It is a surprisingly nice day, weather-wise. The skies are clear and the sun is beaming down. If only I could feel like the weather.

The roads are busy, maybe because everyone is on their way to work. I wish I was going to work. I wish everything was how it used to be, but I know it will never be the same ever again.

I pull up in front of a large, grey bricked building. It towers over me and is highly intimidating with its barbed wire fences and numerous security cameras. I get out of my car and slam the door behind me, wincing as the sound echoes through the premises.

I pass through the large gates that conceal the people that stay and keep out the people that want to visit. Today is an exception though, they are expecting quite a few visitors today.

I enter the building and a burst of anxiety suddenly washes over me. I curse my nerves but then suddenly remember why I am here, and realise it's acceptable to be nervous in this kind of situation. I take a deep breath to calm myself down and proceed to the reception desk.

"I'm here for the execution of...Damien O'Kane." I say, my voice cracking at the end. It made it feel much more real saying it out loud.

The man at reception looked up at me. He was quite old and dressed smartly in the same uniform as all the other prison workers.

"Ah yes," he replies, "very well. Just follow the signs."

I begin to walk away before I suddenly have an idea. I turn on my heel and walk back towards the receptionist, who has his eyes fixed on his computer.

I cough. "Um, excuse me, but would it be possible to see Damien before the execution takes place?"

The man raises his eyebrows at me. "What's your relation to Damien, miss?"