lilith

Lilith
368

I want to see, I want to live, I want to travel, to read, to write, to draw, to create.

"Do you admit your crime, Z?"
"No."

Did he hear me? Did my voice come out? I do not admit my crime.

I want to live, but can one live in this cell? It is very cold.

"I'm asking again, your crime-"
"I don't." My voice had been heard; I was sure of it, even my ringing ears had heard it.

"You will die, Z."

It was very cold; I would freeze.

"I won't die," I said, but my voice was trembling; death was my greatest fear. No, not death-an undignified death was my fear, and a death that took place in this cell would never be dignified.

"Aren't you afraid?"
"Of what?" I said.
"Of an undignified death."

No, my weakness had been exposed; he had understood. No, I couldn't die, I had promised. I was crying. Why was I crying? Like someone without dignity, I was crying out of fear of death.