Four days.

        It's been four days since he had left his family with the disgraceful image of being arrested in the middle of the night. Accused for murder. Of all things, who would have thought? 

        For four days he was left with nothing to do but stare at his shadow cast over the dirty, stone walls of his small prison cell. The black and blue coloring of bruises not attended to manifested themselves more clearly on his body and he ached all over. The pain rendered him unable to do nothing more than lay on the small cot provided for him. It was rather small and uncomfortable to say the least. His legs dangled over the edge of it and the single sheet placed over it that was supposed to substitute proper bedding had a funny fish smell. The whole cell was dark and dreary. The little bit of sunlight that came in through the small window above him did not benefit him in any manner and so these last couple of days were spent in darkness. Him and his thoughts.  And the thing that remained on his mind the most was the guard's promise to him a couple of days ago. 

    He was supposed to die for his crimes. 

     It didn't help that the soldiers that were supposed to attend to him were jerks, casting him judgemental scowls that were supposed to dampen his spirits or their spiteful snickering amongst themselves about how naive they thought he was to have messed with a soldier of the royal army. Jongin didn't pay them any mind and scoffed at them for their ignorance. They didn't even know the whole story, but were so quick to take sides. 

   But who would take his side honestly? He was no one according to the everyone. Everyone that had power that is. His word against there's meant nothing, and that was the sad truth. If he were convicted of murder, then he would suffer the consequences. And those consequences would hit his family so hard. His heart clenched at the memory of his mother's pained stare as her eyes followed her son leaving her in the middle of the night. Without explanation. Without just intentions. If there was a chance he could be saved, he would take it. 

      The rusty hinges of the large, iron-covered cell door opened up again and one of the guards walked over to pick up the remains of his barely touched food sitting in a faded silver bowl.

      “Are you sure you don’t want this?” He scoffed. “When do you think you’ll be able to eat again?”

      Jongin didn’t bother to reply, but rather, he kept his gaze towards the ceiling. His eyes were heavy, drooping with the weight that sleep brought on and he was just about ready to give in although it was probably still early in the afternoon. His mind just wanted to take a break from his ever-racing thoughts.Thoughts of his family, his life, that night, Lena, that mysterious young drunkard. They all circled in his head at once and nothing would stop his thoughts, but a good rest. He closed his eyes and let sleep take over.

      “Wake up.” A deep, gutteral voice growled at him.

      He was jerked out of his sleep and onto his feet before he had enough time to register what was going on. His knees buckled to the side and he winced at the pain at having been woken up in such a sudden and jarring manner. The first few rays of the sun were peeping out of a tiny window and he realized suddenly that he had slept throughout the whole afternoon and into the next morning. Draping one arm around his thin torso, he tried to take a deep breath, but even that hurt.

       “Let’s go. We have to be off now.” A soldier spoke insistently.

        Jongin staggered limply as the officer pulled him foward. Grabbing his wrists, the guard tied them together, tugging the rope to make sure that the knot was tight and secure. As if he had the strength to fight back.

        "I'm quite surprised." The guard grumbled. "Most of you crazy people struggle and fight for your freedom at this point. That," he pushed Jonging forward in front of him this time, "is the best part to see."

        Arrogant bastard.

        "All of you have the same look of desperation in your eyes." A snicker escaped his lips. "Some desperate delusion that you will gain freedom or get away with your crimes. But justice is always served."

        If only I had the strength, I would make you eat your words.

       "But I guess," the man grunted, "maybe you weren't born completely stupid."

        “You people just never learn.” Another soldier spoke up.“You Gifted can never run away. We always find you. Now I wonder what’ll happen to you?”

       “What else can happen?" The last soldier replied. "He will be hung for his crimes.”

         Jongin’s blood turned cold and he froze in place.  Hung?

       Just at the pure mention of that word the hairs on his body stood on edge. He expected to be punished. Yes. He knew Gifted were usually killed when caught or they had suddenly disappeared without anyone knowing what happened. But hung? His mind would never have fathomed being in this position and now here he was. Almost right away he felt the air around his windpipes constrict and for a second it was hard to breathe. He would die in front of everyone for a crime he hadn’t committed. He would be labeled as a murderer and his secret would be revealed in the most distastely way. The constricted feeling kept him from speaking.  

               The guards, still talking amongst themselves, escorted the shaken Jongin outside of the prison door. Outside, the sun’s rays hit his face immediately and instantly Jongin wondered whether he was really meant for such an ill fate after all. How could one die on such a beautiful day as this? Sunny. Cloudless. Without friend or familial comfort. It made one feel as if they were to expect nothing more than a dishonorable passing from this world to the next.

          No. Actually it was better that his loved ones weren’t aro