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Leithreas

Louis XVI's execution, seen through his eyes...

It's been almost six months now, and I don't know how much more of this I can take. The dungeon is filled with large rats, and sticky cobwebs. You can't even put your arm on the wall without pulling off a meter's worth of the infernal cobwebs. This food, too, is just as horrible as the chamber they stick me in. It is supposed to be chicken soup, well on Wednesday anyways, but it tastes more like two-month-old dry wood soaked in brown water. The last day of my trial is tomorrow, thank God. Finally, I'll be able to see the sun's light, and get myself out of this hell-hold. The evidence they found against me has been proven over and over, I'm almost positive that they'll give me the death penalty. Killed by my own peoples weapon, how pathetic that must be. There is no more use in fighting; they've won. I might as well accept my death and go out courageously.

The guard banged on my prison door, the sound echoing throughout the entire room, ringing painfully in my ears. The time has come, the voters have voted, and my fate dwells within the wrapping of a white envelope. Shall I live, or shall I die? It doesn't matter to me anymore. After six months of what they put me through, I'm ready for death. Walking death's hallway is not as bad as you would think. The dark narrow hallways lighted by a small torch every few meters were actually cozy in a way. I haven't seen actual light since I was brought into this place; they keep the prisoners in darkness so they forget what the outside is like. Mind torture is what I like to call it. The guard took me to a vast hall where I was brought in front of many people I didn't know. One by one they handed the envelope down the line they stood in, like a train of destiny, making you nervous and scared at the same time. The last guy took the envelope and opened it. There was a small white piece of paper he pulled out of it. Amazing how ones future can depend so much on such a small little thing.

"Three sixty-one to two eighty-eight," the judge called out. "Louis XVI has been found guilty of treason and shall be sentenced to death tomorrow by the guillotine." Sorrow overcame my face. I knew I'd be found guilty, and I had accepted this, but somewhere deep inside my body there was a pounding feel, hoping that I might still live. The next day I walked the same hallway again, but this time I took a left towards the outside door. As the guard opened the door, I flinched from the brightness of the light. It wasn't that bright, but my dark isolation had proven strong against my eyes, and I had trouble seeing. After a while, my eyes got used to the shining beams of light and I was forced to walk to the stage in the town square. It was a little below freezing and snow was dropping out of the sky. A gift from the faeries on the last day of my life, I couldn't be more proud. Without fear, I walked towards the guillotine and kneeled down on the bench, placed my head on the headrest and awaited the final command for the executioner. As soon as the judge raised his hand, a splitting pain found its way to my neck. My head rolled down into a basket and I stared into the sky, watching the snow fall down from the heavens. Slowly, and painfully, everything went into pitch-blackness. I was back in that tormented dungeon.

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"I am the Alpha and the Omega," says the Lord God, "who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty." --Revelation 1:8

Have a nice day!

 

Leithreas

Louis XVI's execution seen through the eyes of a commoner

There I was, on a cold winters day, waiting in the crowded town square for this execution to take place. It was January 21st, 1793 and the snow was gently falling, making everything dull, yet shine at the same time. His trial, had lasted many days, and finally they came to a decision. Three hundred and sixty-one people had voted for a penalty of death, winning over the other two hundred and eighty-eight who voted for him to live. I guess his day had to come at last; he couldn't rule over France forever, as some people might've believed. Many other commoners, along with all of the officials had come to watch this execution. Not a person here was outside of the town square, all waiting patiently and urgently to see their king walk to his death. Standing in the middle of the stage, was this immensely tall wooden object, mostly just two pillars with a deadly sharp blade between them. The blade, with tiny snowflakes on it, was waiting there patiently to be dropped on its victim, instantly cutting the head off.

The executioner, with his hidden face, was standing next to the guillotine still as a statue. If you didn't know anything, you would've thought he was. Suddenly, cheer and happiness came over the majority of the crowd, while sorrowing overcame the others that still mourned death. Calmly, the King walked towards his doom. With the look of neither sadness nor fear on his face, he kneeled down at the base of his destiny. The thing his people pushed so hard for was ultimately his ending. Courageously, King Louis XVI put his head down on the board. The executioner was beckoned to release the rope, and as he did the crowd gasped with excitement. The Kings death was quick and fearless. It seemed to me, that he had accepted his destiny long before it was put forth.

Bowlblaze

That's really good, I can totally picture it being exactly like that! Great to hear from you; hope your punishment ends eventually.

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The government thinks we're all criminals. The people who are really the criminals are the people who view pot smokers as being no better than rapists, murderers, or corrupt politions
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vaya

LEITHREAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You back, jigga?

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I Wish For Peace Between The Races Someday We Shall All Be One
Coming To The Surface There's Fire All Around But This Is An Illusion