Antigone, Continued - Andy Stefancik

The truth crushed him. Every second was a hundred years. Memories flashed before his eyes. First sight, marriage, birth. First words, first steps, the bond between father and son that was seemingly unbreakable. But no more. His knees buckled beneath him. He fell to the ground with a shriek unlike any other ever heard to man. His mind raced -- why had He done what He did? He wasn't thinking about others, He wasn't thinking about the outcome of his actions. He was thinking about himself. Why? Why, He thinks, didn't He look ahead and see the terrible truth that He would have to live with -- and there He goes again, all about himself. He can't stop. He is gripping his head with his hands bawling like a child. He is a King no more.

He sits in his cell, awaiting his punishment, and contemplates what happened. He was uncoiled from his ball of despair and lifted up by the arms. Guards took him into the dungeon and chained him to the ground for "unethical behavior". Now his life is confined to a simple prison cell, waiting in anticipation for what would happen next. He has lots of time to think -- He reviews what happened and why it did. He was selfish, and He was paying the price. His son and his wife were both dead because of him, and He couldn't live with himself. He had realized his foolishness too late. He killed a girl and the two people that meant the most to him. He now realizes the chilling fact that He his about to die -- He will surely be assigned the penalty of death. A cloak of darkness is dropped over him, and He has no way out. He is alone on death row.

"Wake Up!" A large, bearded man is at the foot of his cell. He opens his eyes, picks his head up off of the metal bed, and looks at the man. In a dark, deep voice, the man bellows, "Creon, former King of Thebes, I, on behalf of the new King and the people of Thebes, hereby sentence you to death by hanging due to your unethical behavior and an abuse of Kingly power. Your execution will happen in one hour." The man leaves with guards by his side, and He sits there, still looking into nothingness.

In one hour, He will no longer be on earth. In one hour, He will never be able to eat again, drink again, talk again, laugh again, love again. In one hour, His life will be over, He will be dead. He sits there, blankly staring into oblivion, for 55 minutes.

"5 Minutes!" the bearded man yells. He rises, and peeks out through the iron bars of his cell, a resemblance of a window for the incriminated. He sees the sun and clouds and birds in the sky, the free world outside. A world that He has taken from himself. He has no one to blame but himself. He looks out the window, one last look at the world.

He hears the footsteps on the cobblestone, and He hears the jangle of the keys. The bearded man, with guards at his side, unlocks the door. "Let's go." He is unchained from the floor and his hands are handcuffed. He is led into the execution chamber. One room, with a single lantern, only lighting up one thing, the centerpiece of the room. He looks away, He can't bare it.

He is led up onto the stand, and steps forward onto a stool. He takes one last look at nothing, staring into the distance that isn't there. They blindfold him. He feels something go around his neck, and feels a slight tension. "Any last words," the voice asks him. He stands, thinking of something to say. Should He apologize, plead, beg? He can't think, his mind is racing, but it is still. He sits in silence. In the next second He is exposed to a multitude of things. He hears the clank of wood falling onto the floor. He feels the air beneath him, and He feels the pressure increase. He thinks He feels a tear, but there is no way to tell with the blindfold on. Then, He feels nothing.