• Blindfolded, she stood in front of the firing squad. For a crime unknown to the bystanders, she was to be publicly executed. She was a strong, talented girl, a talented fighter. Nobody understood why she was supposed to die. A few of the younger children who had befriended her these past few years whimpered, clutching their mothers’ hands.

    She was allowed to wear whatever she wanted for her death —her simple white dress that she always wore gently flowed in the breeze. She was allowed to eat anything she wanted before she died –she chose a small meal of bread and fruit. She was allowed to contact anybody she needed before the event—she spoke to nobody. She was allowed to pray to God before judgment—she prayed to nothing.

    She stood with her long blonde hair down, some of it wafting in front of her blindfolded eyes. Her back was straight, feet firmly planted on the ground, hands relaxed at her sides. She was standing with her back to a gray brick wall, standing in the middle of the execution field—a circular plot of dirt surrounded by chain-link fences topped with barbed wire. On the inside of this barrier were the five executioners and she, on the outside stood the entire town. Except for their leader, who stood at his window in his tower above all the people, silently watching. The sun shone with a terrible brilliancy that seemed to mock the somber affair.

    The squad captain shouted his ready command. The executioners steadied their guns, the mass of people visibly tensed. The children, sensing discomfort from the adults, huddled closer. There was no sound except for the gentle flapping of the girl’s white dress blowing in the wind. The second ready command from the captain had the squad c**k their guns, the loud clack of the bullet entering the barrel causing a few in the crowd to jump.

    A woman buried her face into her husband’s chest, unable to watch any further. A small child broke the silence with a solitary wail, quickly silenced by his mother. Watching eyes were all wide open, not wanting to miss anything.

    A small smile played across the girl’s face.

    The captain gave the order to fire.

    All five guns, aimed at five vital points, fired simultaneously.

    But the girl didn’t die.

    The universal sound barrier suddenly dropped, all voices yelled, people roughly shook the fence, crowding up against one another to see what had happened.

    In the blink of an eye, her lover had appeared in front of the bullets, taking all five shots, dying immediately. His body was spread-eagled on the ground, broken, bleeding, dead. His eyes were wide open, but his face had a feeling of calmness, of relaxation.

    The throng of people suddenly quieted as a small clack was heard from inside the execution field. As the squad captain walked towards the girl, he was loading his pistol.

    Knowing she was supposed to die and hadn’t, she tore off her white blindfold, a last look of anguish she directed to his body on the dirt. Still standing erect, she shook out her hair, looking straight into the eyes of the approaching captain, her face glowing with an unimaginable look of disgust and fury on her face. The only noise was the sound of the man’s boots hitting the dirt with each step. When he stopped an arm’s length from the girl, there was once again the uncomfortable, pressing silence. He raised his gun to her forehead.

    Her face was then calm, her wide eyes never daring to look away from his. Another small smile emerged as the tears she had never shed suddenly streamed down her face.

    With the shot, her head flew backwards, blood and brain blasting out the back of her skull. From his lofty perch, the leader sneered down at the scene.

    “Killed two birds with one stone.”