That smell. The smell of burned flesh and smoking bones. It is an absolutely nauseous experience to witness. What is so terrifying isn’t the bad odor itself but the act of killing a human being in such an inhumane and savage way.
At first, I thought that this must be what hell smells like. But then again, this devilish method of ending a person’s life is of such cruelty that not even God himself would punish the evildoers of this world like that. He is after all the most merciful, although, his blessings have latterly seemed to decline progressively. Albeit I see a warden on a quotidian basis I cannot recall the last time I spoke to another person or if I do even remember how to talk.
This lockup might be dull and grime and boring but I feel closer to God than ever. I do not blame the Lord for the sins of humanity or the failure of this system. Actually, I do not even loathe whoever is responsible for my captivity. It’ll do no good for anyone so I chose to forgive them long ago. Now I can sleep somewhat on a clothesline.
Nevertheless, I can never forget this terror of being aware of another person’s cessation and my helplessness. I feel so close to those being executed and yet so far. I am at last in the same position as them and I’ll in all likelihood share the same destiny as them. But the fear and countdown for the settlement is not the worst; the fact that I can do nothing about it is. I feel so weak behind those gray bars and walls of steel. Like a dog in a cage. But this is what strengthens me. I know that someday I’ll go beyond. Every day I tell myself that if this is, indeed, the worst day of my life then tomorrow must be better. And it works. I know that someday capital punishment will come to an end and those lost will be avenged by justice itself.
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