Execution

He sat there: the definition of failure. She may as well have been Medusa, for as often as he looked at her. She kept smiling and promising that everything would turn out fine. Yeah, everything was fine: the judge and jury sat ahead of them, their frigid decision already made on the most wondrous execution. His gaze hasn’t left his shoes in such a long time; he’s afraid and time is running out. They’d be there in nothing short of five minutes. The fear built a fortress within him that she couldn’t quite scale even with her most promising attempt. It was finally time.

The door seemed to be his greatest enemy; mocking him, as he passed the threshold, with a squeak. He ran up the familiar stairs, thinking them his only salvation. They led to the place where he could be safe, if only for awhile. She followed him there and began begging him to leave his sanctuary so that they may replenish themselves. After trying to persuade her into staying, possibly forever, they both walked down the staircase, that had just a minute ago promised salvation and now it speaks of nothing but damnation. The last step was the worst for him, he felt as though when he made it he’d have just receded into hell.

Author's Note

6/10/10 - Unfinished