June 17th, Dear Diary- Part 1
June 17th, 10:00 P.M
Right now I am sitting, huddled in the grass, I am terrified. It is getting dark out and I can’t stop thinking of the scoffing bloodied faces of today.
I can remember it so clearly, I was crouched on the damp, cold floor of the dungeon cell. There were faint voices of men, women, and children weeping and humming in the darkness. I felt little bones and rocks scattered across the floor and water dripping through the ceiling. I was in there for 20 minutes from when I had woken up. It was 3 A.M, I heard one of the guards say.
At that moment a burly man unlatched my barred door, he grasped me by the shoulders and flung me out. He then ordered people to make sure that the carriage was ready for me. I didn’t understand at first what he meant, but then I did. I was going to be executed.
None of the guards faces had any hint of pity except for one of the younger ones, he looked new and maybe feeble among the others.
They dragged me along the ground, I didn’t dare kick and scream. I had watched that before when I was younger, they killed her right on the spot. Instead, I scrambled to my feet trying to look strong. The only acknowledgment I got was flashing eyes of the other prisoners.
Finally, we had made it to a thick, almost barricaded door, it was unlatched and flung open with a heave.
The light blinded my eyes as I was forced out into the sunlit area and it took them a while to adjust. The guard who originally pulled me out of the cell was standing next to me and the more feeble guard was climbing up into the carriage.
Whinnying horses were tied to a fencepost waiting to be released and take us where we must go. My “execution.”
I was thrown into the back next to Feeble, he looked at me and hardened his gaze and scoffed. He knew what his job was.
To scare me.
There were conversations going on that I couldn’t seem to hear too well and I turned my gaze. The stars were still bright in the sky, it was so early.
A little while later, we were off in the horse drawn carriage. No one spoke on the ride and we were traveling very slowly. Very slowly. I understood why though, the road was bumpy, there was a steep drop-off to our left and there was ultimately no light. Except for the one lantern that hung off the side of where I sat.
Sitting there was so uncomfortable, with my arms bound behind my back and a gag in my mouth, I was hot too. I had no idea how long it would be until we got there, how long it would be until I died.
Suddenly, the cart started to jolt back and forth and the driver tumbled off his seat and onto the ground. The two horses pulling us arched back and started into a run. Feeble squealed and tried to climb forward to get control of the animals but he lurched backward and collided with the seat. Blood trickled from his forehead.
My first thought was to do what Feeble had done, but the cart was shaking too much to do so. I thought about jumping off but I would have no way to break my fall. My hands were tied.
By then it was too late to do anything, the horse to the left lost it’s footing and plummeted off the cliff dragging us with it. We fell, we fell so far and I could hear the blood pumping in my ears. The wind whistled past me as the ground got closer and closer.
A cracking sound echoed all around me and the water stung my face as I impacted with the water.
At first, I tried to swim upward but the carriage emptied it’s contents on top of me. I became tangled in the ropes and an iron chestplate planted itself over my leg. I gasped for air but there wasn’t any to gasp, only the murky water that surrounded me.
My lungs screamed for air but it was getting late, I sank deeper and deeper and the pressure soon became too much.
So much for a formal execution. It was already happening.