It was only a chair. Sure, the straps were intimidating, but a chair. Nobody dreams that this is the way they will die. They may have images of a grand, noble passing. Others pray for a soft, comfortable bed. A sweet, natural death to celebrate a sweet, natural life.

But to celebrate the life of a murderer?

….The chair will have to do.

I glanced through the glass and focussed on two beautiful, dark haired women. They were sisters. They were the sisters.

The eldest was gone. I became aware of her violent death almost 20 years after we released her and her sisters from our grievous game. I wonder how she would be feeling right now. Would she have been happy to know that Steve and Craig both ODed and died only days after I made my confession and turned myself in? I wonder what she would think. I wonder if she realised how much her tiny sisters mourned for her the day she sacrificed herself to protect them. How they prayed for her to be with them and how she didn't answer their prayers.

I wonder if she knows that I cried for her…

The youngest turned her head. Her smooth features were hard, void of any emotion, yet her tears flowed freely down her cheeks. The middle sibling snaked her arm around her younger sister's shoulder, once again comforting her at the loss of their protector.

I locked eyes with the compassionate one for the last time. Her chocolate eyes were smooth and expressive and trapped me under her spell once again. I nodded slightly, never breaking eye contact. She was right. I shouldn't have hurt my teacher and I was now going to pay the penalty. I signalled my surrender and allowed her to claim victory. Her gaze was penetrating and she held me in place during my last moments.

So that was my life.

So this is my future.

What I wouldn't give to be 17 again.

What I wouldn't give for anything right now.

What I wouldn't give….

I shuddered and allowed my eyelids to drop.