Anne Boleyn's Last Day
The crowd is yelling. Yelling at me.
Their shouts are
deafening, but still, I hear my heartbeat.
Some give me their
hand. Some others spit at me.
They are all so filthy. Their dirty
fingers point at me.
The few children who are present just stare
at me in wonder or cry.
I feel like crying myself, too, but I just
don't have any power left. I am exhausted like a corn field after
many years of monotonous sowing. My eyes look at every single
spectator until I see it.
Filthy and ugly just like all the people
are. The place where I'm going to die.
My calamity suddenly
vanishes as I see the executioner.
His face covered with a leather
cap, he silently nods to me.
I am looking hastily around for the
ax but there isn't any.
I ascent the last three steps in my whole
life. The wooden planks creak when my three servants and I walk past
it. The crowd watches every step, every breath I take.
I say my
last words. Suddenly a feeling of eternal sadness covers me and I
just can't keep my eyes from crying and I start sobbing.
Nearly
inaudible two of my servants are gasping for air because they are
suppressing their sadness, too. Slowly but surely my last minutes of
life will end.
The servants take off my silk coat, my pearl
earrings and my pearl necklace.
I thank every single one for her
submissiveness. Nothing will ever touch my ivory skin except the cold
steel of the executioner's weapon.
He asks for his sword. While my
royal background comes back to my mind I turn over to the
executioner's servant who reaches over to grab his master's sword.
Suddenly I hear a hissing noise and all goes blank.