The young man leaned against the lone wooden post in the
courtyard, hands cuffed behind his back. The guard approached
with a blindfold.
“No! No blindfold. And don’t tie me to the post. I’m not going
anywhere.”
The guard looked to his superior who nodded the okay.
Thirty yards away stood five skilled marksmen ready to execute
judgment.
A shudder ran the length of his body. Fear? Anticipation? Both! This
was the fate he had chosen. This was his request.
He yearned for the relief death would bring. Justice would be served.
More importantly he would be free of this guilt.
Yet, as much as he wanted to die, he feared death. What if it wasn’t
what he expected? What will it feel like? How long would he suffer
before the nothingness of death swallowed him? His knees grew
weak; his breath became shallow, his mouth dry; his chin began to
tremble.
Let’s end this! Get it over with!
Finally the countdown came.
“Ready!” Here it comes.
“Aim!” I can’t wait to be free.
“Fire!” BANG!
Huh?
This wasn’t in the plan!