On The Gallows

August 8, 2011
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They could hear the crowd’s screams of judgment as the coarse ropes were being tightened around their necks. Clods of dirt and rocks were being thrown at them out of disgust and hatred. The two boys turned their eyes from the crowd and looked into each other’s. They could see everything: the first kiss they shared, their secret sanctuary where they would meet every other night, but most of all, the night they lost their holiness.

As these thoughts flowed through the mazes of their minds, tears of happiness began to roll down their cheeks. They reached for each other’s hands and grasped on tightly to one another, and suddenly, at that moment, everything seemed to slow down. They didn’t care that they were going to die, not anymore, as long as they had this moment together.

Sadly enough, this moment didn’t last, their hands were torn from one another by one of the executioners standing beside them. He tied their hands tightly behind their backs, nearly cutting off circulation. Brown sacks were pulled over their heads protecting the crowd from seeing the face of disgrace in its form of death.

Blinded by the brown sack, the only things they had to rely on were the things they heard and felt, and yet they heard and felt nothing. The screams of the crowd were silent and the clods of dirt and rocks had been blocked out. All these two boys could think about were the times they spent together in secret and how they would soon be out of this hell they were forced to call home.

One of the executioners reached for the wooden lever wrapped in white cloth and pulled it. The two boys fell to their deaths. Their necks snapped as they reached the end of their ropes. Their bodies squirmed as they hung in mid-air, but then after a while, they became still.

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