For the first time I stood up, not more or less than a man, with my pride tucked far away. My cell door swung opened and the officer dressed in black grabbed a hold of my arm and said, “It’s time.” I stepped out of the cell feeling dead more than I can possibly feel being alive. But my misery will soon end within the next half hour as two officers with their hands locked onto my arms begin to me down the hallway, white with speckles of grays tiled floor. The cuffs around my wrists never felt this cold, perhaps it’s because I’ve always been such a cold person without realizing. And like the gloomy weather this morning, I’ve always been a storm on the go raining down on every thing I’ve come across, even to the one I love.

As I am walking, I slightly turn my head to look up and outside one last time at the rusted bar windows with water trickling down the glass that bears behind them. The sound of the rain hitting the glass in protection pierces the silence between these two cement walls, sounding like bullets. I make a left turn to see another officer at the end of the hallway unlocking the black metal bar door, opening it welcoming me to my death. I am nothing but a dead man anyway, with only senses of her. I can hear her whispers traveling through the air making her left turn behind me catching up to my ears, “I love you.” I can hear her all around me.

My heavy steps suddenly start to feel light; I close my eyes for a second as I continue to walk toward death that awaits me patiently. She appears in my mind and takes me to another place, the one woman that God himself, specially designed and made for me. Her hands were carefully crafted to fit into mine. Her face was decorated with a warm smile that I never knew had any kind of power over me. And her heart was sprinkled with more love than anyone else could ever give. But I never cherished her too much the way I wish I could have now. All the reckless things I’ve said and all the wounds and bruises I’ve psychically left on her, have now hit me in the heart and mind seven times the hurt and pain one can feel. The emotions has molded inside leaving me guilty as I grasp onto her.