Oh man, I can't proof read this, it will make me cry so much, sob…
Each footstep lasted an age, rivalling the sound of my heartbeat.
I'd finally accepted my fate fully. All I had left was a prayer that all my friends would be happy, something I never really could be.
Even when we'd been in school, I'd felt like an outsider. When all the girls used to smile at me, I'd been in my own world, the one where I had my family back. At least now all would end, and I could finally rest in peace.
So lost in my thoughts I was that I did not acknowledge Bakura's laments until he cried out in anguish.
Oh Ra! Have mercy on this poor boy's soul. At least for you this can end, he said, turning to me. I am immortal; I can never die. I have suffered for thousands of years and will continue to for the rest of eternity, an empty ache deep in my shattered heart. It is broken, yet it still beats. Do you know how that feels? He wailed. When the stars turn to dust, I will still be here, suffering. When the world ends, and the flaming pits of Hell freeze, I shall still be here, doomed to wander the cosmos for the rest of existence. What say you to that?
I couldn't answer. The warden and priest were in the backroom with me, and the priest had just forced brandy down my throat.
"I'm too young to drink," I stuttered as the liquid burned my throat.
The priest made the Holy sign before he answered. "In times like this, may all your sins be forgiven."
"Son, after all your other offences, surely underage drinking doesn't count," the warden said, tying my hands behind my back.
The priest read a passage from the Holy Book-
Shame it isn't the Book Of Life- added Bakura. I know a good spell or two to raise the Dead.
I let the words wash over me, cleansing my corrupted soul. Just a few more minutes.
Never would I feel the breath of the wind against my cheek again, or smell the tangy aroma of the sea, or even make peace with my soul.
The warden yanked my bonds to make sure they were tight enough, before he led me to the hangman's frame. A crowd had gathered to watch; the structure being surrounded by seats, like a Roman amphitheatre. Fitting really, how they used to fight to their deaths. These days, there was no sport.
I saw Joey's disappointed face, Téa's pale complexion, Tristan's…all the faces were swirling into a blur. I realized I was crying. Instead of restraining myself, I finally let go of my emotions and wept freely. All those years of bottling up my thoughts, wearing a mask over my life, it was about to end here and now.
The sun was a burning orange, emblazoned across a fiery sky. It hung low in the sky, waiting for the stroke of six.
"Any last words?"
I shook my head.
The executor brought out a hood, and placed it over my head. The last sight I saw was Yugi, staring emotionlessly. His eyes met mine, and he looked away. I could have sworn I saw a flash of Yami, holding the Ankh, the symbol of life, up to the Heavens, praying for me.
I thought I could taste blood; I'd bit my tongue. Fresh liquid flowed in my mouth, and my parched tongue lapped it up gratefully. No more sadness.
The first stroke.
I was led to the trapdoor.
The noose was placed around my neck.
It was tested, jerked twice to make sure it was strong enough.
Someone cried. I said my prayer, and Bakura said his own, for his Hikari, and for himself. A life for a life!
I am free…
Down by the babbling brook
Where the weeping willow sighs,
Her angel watches over a boy
Whose spirit has not really died.
He lies in peace with the daffodils
His aching soul has found joy,
And at his headstone hangs a Ring
To guard the fragile boy.