After dismissing us from the courtroom’s confines, the officer on standby multiplied to accommodate one for each of the guilty. They came to our sides with scant breathing room between us. How dangerous we two must appear: I, short and slight, Jay, lanky and quivering, to require armed escorts. Our locked wrists weapons in waiting.

With haste, the judge left out his designated back door to drop his haggard body back on a mattress. Inconveniencing him as I already was, I wished further he’d never rest well for the remainder of his life. I wanted vengeance for what he destined for me. He’d be dead long before I’d be free from his influence. I couldn’t understand how this was “justice” if I was the only one that had to see the outcome of our decisions through to the end.

Ushering us out of the marble halls and onto the pavement, we were hauled into the back of a police car with windows I only saw my reflection in. The officer assigned to me opened the door for my entrance, before grabbing my shoulder and shoving me down into the seat. A near miss of greeting my face with the frame. I expressed my upset with an indignant grimace that he eluded by the slam of the door.

It was a chilly night and the leather interior held the cold. The police in the passenger seat put coordinates into the square screen on the dash causing an aerial view of our city to display a red route. I was certain that the 62 number on the right upper corner specified the minutes the journey would take. Settling in for the distance as well as I could, I leaned back against the seat, face toward the window. I planned to watch the scenery pass and try not to have expectations for the future beyond that. Thinking about it in terms of letting my cynicism run rampant would only make me sick with dread, but if I tried to keep hopeful then reality would crush my spirit twofold. It was better to consider nothing at all when I could suppress the natural urge to.

Carried by the highway down the city’s center, I pressed my cheek against the window to look as far up the sides of the passing skyscrapers as I could cram my neck. Some were tall dark rectangles against the sky, others torched by advertisements in neon. I’d seen the cityscape near-daily and I was opposed to missing what could be my last opportunity to take it all in: the hazy glow of the night tempered by the sunrise, the breeze whistling as it slid between buildings, the cautionary beeps of the crosswalk. I never cared to pay attention, yet, knowing these sights would soon be inaccessible to me made them different. Important was the word I fished up. They weren’t though, not in any distinct way besides wanting for what I knew I couldn’t have. Everyone else would continue on without any special notice of their surroundings, even when I wasn’t a part of it anymore.

We passed the garish shopping centers and the three to four-story mansions that made up the residential. Green lawns with marble fountains greeted those who entered at the same time as the goliath houses showed off their slick new vehicles from the driveways. Everything was constructed around the central goal of boasting. The standards of the city-state were presentation, prestige, and perfection. I grew up surrounded by the fragile ivory decor, but I always knew the sofa’s cushions were more comfortable underneath the plastic protector. Living inside the city-state’s territory granted prosperity under the caveat that your life plan revolved around fulfilling the responsibilities that had been presented to you. Your work, your house, and even components of your marriage were collectively ordained by family and voted on by the community. A group effort to clad you in whatever weighty attire they thought fit. In my house, the dedication to tradition was admirable. Somehow my parents managed to manufacture three kids despite never speaking with one another. My two siblings, shepherded by the populace, had already moved on to pursue the careers they’d matched with. I, on the other hand, didn’t see the point of a home with 50 rooms if 45 of them were closed off; unused and hollow. On the other side of things, my siblings had their mansions and families to call their own, and I一 I was headed to Inertia with little more to say for myself other than “so long.”

Seated at my side, Jay’s face was still tucked in his palms. I debated informing him he was missing his chance at a last, valedictory glance, but thought better of it. He was hanging on by a thread (and I was being generous in giving him that much) threatening to snap if he so much as glimpsed at what was being left behind. If looking led to an attempt to barrel roll out the side door, I wouldn’t want to be his instigator. I wasn’t looking to extend my time stewing in anticipation any longer when they would inevitably give chase or result to peeling him off the road.