It was breakfast. Eggs and a cup of water, not too bad, I thought. I was still very hungry afterwards. The waiting was hard. Just sitting and pondering one’s life when they know they are going to die isn’t easy. I tried not to think about it too much, but I couldn’t help it.
Hours ticked by, and I dozed off a couple of times, then relaxed and continued to sit in silence, not knowing what to do with myself.
It was night time when they came for me. Opened the door of my cell, thrust their way in, and dragged me out, and I didn’t give a fight, because I knew that would only make it worse.
I walked with them, one at each arm, as if we were going to a dance, and they were my dates. But instead I was going to die, and they were walking me there.
A small part of me wondered if this really was the end, perhaps they were just taking me for another interrogation, or the bathroom. But that was naïve and stupid, and I knew it was over, and I wasn’t going to get my hopes up with foolish thoughts.
There were twists and turns in the building, and I realized I was probably in the same building that I’d been in before, but on a different floor. And as I continued to walk, I thought to myself, what’s the bother? Why not try to fight? Why not give them a hard time? I would never have the chance again.
We turned another corner, and I recognized it as the one where I had heard Roy talking to the boss, except the wallpaper was a blue-green color. How cheerful. I waited for them to turn the next corner, because that was where an escape would be easiest.
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