Alexandra

Crowd.

Noise from the murmurs of the people I couldn’t understand. Almost inaudible in my ears.

My face down to see the glimpse of my orange shirt and dark-colored denim pants. Trying to look good though my dark hair was already too short for a curl.

My hands threaded and squeezed together—wrapped with cold sweat. The cold metal handcuffs wrapped around my wrists.

My feet felt heavy as I move forward to the room of death. The place where people gathered to hear my plea with an unchangeable decision.

My throat went dry as I gulped the liquids of my mouth while pressing my lips to calm myself down.

Several men in brown gathered around me. They held me everywhere in my body securing my inescapable judgment.

Armed with high caliber guns, they brought me into the big door, where behind it lies my last breath. My last morning. My last sigh.

One of them opened the doors. We entered.

I mustered my courage to glance the surroundings. People’s stares filled with disgust and worry. Especially to those familiar persons sitting on the right side of the pews.

I showed a faint smile on my face before I passed by them towards the reserved pew in front and sat.

When the man in black entered, I stood to face him and wait for his judgment. My life remained at the tip of his pen as everyone wanted my death.

That I could no longer taste my favorite cake for my upcoming twenty-third birthday.

Today will be the last day I could survive. Because later, I will be fighting against the outcome of my sins. The grievous crimes I committed years ago.

“We are once again, constrained to take a hard look into the sufficiency of extra-judicial confessions and pieces of evidence gathered as the basis for the imposition of the supreme penalty of reclusion perpetua (life imprisonment),” the woman announced.

As the minutes passed, I heard nothing but the voice of judgment from the woman citing the court order.

A year ago, my legal counsel submitted a plea to reduce the penalty. That I could rot inside the dungeon with the other prisoners without the need for the death sentence.

The words were no long comprehensible. I could no longer understand what she said. All I did was to wait until her announcement printed on the paper.

“Considering that the accused Montenegro is only twenty-two years old, the penalty of reclusion perpetua is raised to the death penalty. So ordered.” The judge hammered twice that roared the court.

That was it.

I shut my eyes to face down hiding the smile on my face as the people cheered.

I turned my face to the group of persons sitting at the pews behind me, crying. Especially my two closest friends, Marissa and Jessica.

They would have loved to run away and enjoy the times when we’re free again. “I’m sorry,” I told them without a voice coming from my mouth.

Without hearing their response, the men grabbed my arms back to the cell where I came from. Deprived from a chance to say goodbye, that is.

Amidst the jeers of the nation, my heart was at peace. Trying to.

Every step I took was the same time the clock ticked to the last second I saw them.

The last time I saw…Earth.