Wasted Youth
She brushed her long blonde hair from her eyes as six
men and six women slowly, but deliberately, filed into the jury box. She stood
pensively as the judge asked of the jury, “What say you”? The jury foreman
looked deeply into her eyes, and said, “Guilty”! Her legs suddenly went weak,
her lawyer grabbing her, guiding her into the cold hard wood chair she had sat
in during her horrific trial. Her blue eyes had now turned a pale shade of grey,
and her milky white skin took on an ashen hue, as large tear drops streamed
copiously down her cheeks. Before she could reach to wipe her eyes, the bailiffs
placed her in shackles to await the judges sentence. It was then in desperation,
in a pleading voice, her lawyer begged, “Your honor, she just turned eighteen
and knows little of life’s experience, I ask your most gracious mercy”! The
judge without the least the hesitation or reservation looked at her trembling
form and said, “This day, before the sun sets, you are to be taken to a suitable
place of execution and hanged by the neck until you are dead”! It was then her
petite form went completely limp.
When she awoke, she found herself in a filth laden stable, with a dirt and straw
floor. Her clothes had been replaced with a single white gown, her panties
removed along with her bra, she in her bare feet. In the corner of this hovel
was a make shift toilet, disgusting and fowl. She had to relieve herself in the
worst way, but fought back the urge, her mind reeling, thinking about even
hovering over its stained, soiled seat. It was then a guard said, “Missy it be
better that you attend to business so you do not embarrass yourself in front of
the crowd”. Her mind raced with confusion, then suddenly realized that she was
to be hung most brutally, the sun now past its zenith. As she slowly walked
toward the seat of honor, she slipped and muddied her gown. The guard once again
said “Not to worry Missy, you won’t need that gown”. It was then the full
realization of what was about to happen, hit her and she started to scream.
With pomp and ceremony two men showed up at her room of shame. Both seemingly
enjoyed that which was at hand. They asked in a firm tone that she remove her
gown and place her hands behind her back. With course shaking hands she fumbled
with the straps of the gown, calculating how she could let it drop and protect
her femininity from
prying eyes at the same time, yet knowing its impossibility. Her gown slid down
the length of her beautiful form revealing skin so fine that it almost shined
against the backdrop of the stable. As the men were binding her hands behind her
back, she could hear someone in the next room commenting how shameful it was to
waste such a beautiful young woman. With that, the doors of her cell opened most
graciously as if she were entering a ballroom.
The last remnants of the sun hit her blue eyes almost blinding her, and she
began to stumble toward a ravenous crowd of people. There were hundreds staring
at her naked form as they led her through the crowd and toward a dark wooden
gallows. All around her she could hear shouts and whistles, intermixed with vile
sexual commentary as her right foot set upon the first step of thirteen. It was
then it all became too much for her, and she again started screaming “Please
don’t hang me”! “God, Please don’t hang me”! “Please, Please, Please”. The
crowed cheered in unity as she begged her executioners to stop. Each step she
took toward the top was more agonizing than the last, her heart pounding through
her chest, her breathing rapid and shallow.
As she faced the thick, coiled, hemp noose dangling in front her face, she
looked up to see that it offered no length or slack, just a short expanse long
enough to allow her to pass through the trapped door beneath her feet. The
hangman took a lifetime placing the noose on her trembling form. It seemed
supremely important to him, that he tighten and place the knot just in the right
place on her supple neck, all the while the crowd whipping themselves into a mad
frenzy. From the back she heard, “Hang her good, make her dance”, then everyone
laughed. The hangman stepped behind her momentarily, checking the binding on her
hands, then disappeared from her peripheral vision taking his place at the
handle of death.
It was then she felt the floor move beneath her, and heard the loud crash of
wood against wood. She felt a severe sharp pain flow through her body as if she
were struck by lightening. Then suddenly what breath she had began to leave her.
Instinctively, she tried reaching with her hands, to relive the constriction
around her neck, but found it impossible. She began to kick and pull her knees
toward her chest, as if somehow that would make everything all right, but it
only tightened the death grip the rope had on her. The crowd now grew silent as
they watched her struggle for every bit of air she could get. For a full five
minutes she struggled tortuously, heaving back and forth, her chest rising
forward and then jerking backward. Then her form took a limp appearance, her
legs and feet twitching uncontrollably. It was not until thirty minutes that her
body went completely motionless. As the darkness set in, four burning torches
were placed around the parameter of the gallows so that she her golden form
could be view throughout the evening, and as reminder to all ... Youth is merely
a state of mind, not a guarantee of life.
Copyright by ThirteenStepsToGo (2008).