Death is beautiful to one who gives life in it's stead. May he live long, may he find a woman that loves him, and may he remember me in those silent moments. I pray that he forgives me for my foolishness and my folly for I cannot forgive myself. Why regret that which gave me him? What is happiness but stolen moments?
He slept deeply. The springs didn't squeak as I rose from the bed. Light snores carried on their usual cadence as I reached for my clothes on the floor. I stole a look at the man I had grown to love. Adonis in my eyes. Savior. Friend. A part of my soul lived within him. He was beautiful in those last moments I spent with him. Fearing I would wake him and ruin everything I had worked so hard for, I refrained from touching him. In my last moments, that was my only regret.
His uniform lay on the floor. One of 3,000 similar uniforms. All could be seen on the streets, upholding the tyranny that had become dominant. I reached for his papers that he had carried in his pocket. I looked down at my own face. Undesirable. That was the title above my image. Death was the decided consequence for my transgressions against the tyranny. A consequence that one man denied; the man who would die if I did not. He had been given until dawn. Outside, the birds were stirring from their rest. I had taken too much time. I returned the paper to their pocket and took out the book that I had carried with me since I was a child. I laid it on my pillow, one page dog-earred and with one last look at my Adonis, I hastily left.
He woke to the sound of rain. Today was the day they would run. He turned to awaken his love and found naught but her book. With a strangled cry, he jerked into awareness. She had done it. She had left him. Picking up the book with the dog-earred page, he had barely read the first sentence when the words became blurry with tears that ran onto the pages. No. Not like this. She had maybe been gone 2 hours. He rushed into his uniform, not noticing the buttons that flew off in his frenzy. He pocketed the book and rushed out into the streets.
It was quiet. The road to the courts was empty, meaning that all of the officers had gathered to watch the execution. His fear turned to panic. Throwing open the double doors to the courts, he rushed inside. At least 2,000 men stood in lines facing the dais. Empty faces. Stares straight ahead. He ran past them all, not a one moved to stop him. The judges in their red robes surrounded a small figure on the dais.
He was too late. The decision had been made.
I could no longer feel my hands and my mouth was full of my own blood. Being a woman did not matter to corrupt men. I braced myself for the next blow to my face. This one toppled me. I saw movement out of the corner of my eye in the sea of endless black and I saw him. My light.
No, I thought, don't come any closer. Stay where you are.
We made eye contact and I saw the fury build to the point of explosion. His roar shook the courts. He bounded for the steps of the dais, but was subdued by guards. The judge seemed to
find pleasure in his reaction and grasped me by my hair and pulled me up on my knees. I had not cried out yet, and refused to do so now.
The judge bent down next to me and bellowed, "This woman is guilty of Transgression Against the State. She is a traitor to her brothers. She is a harborer of illegal materials." As he said this, he emptied my bag on the wooden platform.
Books littered the floor, books that had escaped the fires.
With hatred in his eyes, he spit upon the pile and the crowd of men began chanting their assent.
Above them, I could hear a steady roar as my Adonis fought his captors.
No, my love. It is how it should be.
The judge raised one hand and the chants ceased. He turned away from me and began to walk towards my Adonis. He stopped his struggle and met the judge's stare. "You have brought this woman to me, as was your duty. You shall be rewarded for your dedication to the State."
As the judge finished his address, my Adonis replied with a cry that rent my soul. The judge turned his back on him and began his ascent to the platform again. I've never seen a man fight his restraints more; it was like watching a modern day Prometheus bound upon his rock awaiting the buzzards.
The judge drug me to my feet. "This woman is guilty of crimes against the State. She will burn."
I didn't make a sound when they bound me to the pyre. The smell of gas was suffocating. I never looked anywhere but at him. His face became blurry as tears streamed down my dirty face. He was my light. The judge held the torch, the heat was unbearable, but I refused to close my eyes. I would drink him in for as long as I could. I didn't see the torch drop, rather I felt the heat leave my face and envelop my legs. The smoke obstructed my view of my Adonis, my light, but I could hear his roar above the cry of the flames. I saw him break away, I saw him fall as he was struck from behind.
The pain began. My lungs were enveloped by the smoke. I coughed in vain. The tears flowed freely down my ash covered face. His roar echoed. I began to cry in earnest. Heartwrenching sobs that shook my soul. I cried for my Adonis. I cried for the people. I cried for a future that I could never have. I cried for a love that was never meant to be.
I did not cry from the pain. I could no longer feel it. My lungs filled with the blackness, but still I sought out my light. There he was, my Adonis, on his knees. I could no longer hear his cries. I could only hear my own heartbeat in my ears.
Thump. Thump. Slower now. Thump.
Always keeping my eye on my light. My Adonis.
I was fading now.
Thump. Thump.
Nothing.
They left him on his knees and filed out of the hall. The smoke was stifling.
The echo in his heart repeated: It should have been me. It should have been me.
The book had fallen out of his pocket and lie open to the dog-earred page:
"The time will come, the time will not be long in coming, when new ties will be formed about you--ties that will bind you yet more tenderly and strongly to the home you so adorn--the dearest ties that will ever grace and gladden you. O Miss Manette, when the little picture of a happy father's face looks up in yours, when you see your own bright beauty springing up anew at your feet, think now and then that there is a man who would give his life, to keep a life you love beside you!"
