"my mind through the chair"

February 12, 2011
By MannyCdapoet SILVER, Poughkeepsie, New York
MannyCdapoet SILVER, Poughkeepsie, New York
6 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
We do not remember days; we remember moments-unknown


I can't take sitting here for much longer. As I feel the col air in the room, my hands turn numb from the cold rusty shackles. I can see my life flashing before my eyes, replaying every horrid scene I have witnessed. As I look back in life, all I can ask myself is why? Once that question reaches my mind, a sound of a gun shot rattles my chest. Now I finally know what the sound of death is. There was so much more I could have done in my life. On the other hand I was the one to resort of going left instead of right, smack into a wall. Now my body rests here waiting for the power to turn on. My body is heating. As I look down sweat starts to pour down my face and body like a rushing waterfall. My eyes widen and I go into a cold stare. Now my last sight through the reflective plexi-glass is that I am a child again. My vision of me as a child starts to fade, the only thing I have ever loved has disappeared and now I am in a dark room. Silent, dark, the air smells wet. Am I finally at peace with myself? Or is this just the beginning..?


The author's comments:
I was sitting in creative writing class and the teacher asked us to write about about different senses, and since I am writing about a fictional tale of a man on death row, I tried to write in his perspective of him being in the chair waiting for death and how he is feeling and what his senses were going through.

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