Fan Fiction ❯ Too Late ❯ Too Late ( One-Shot )

Too Late
By: Lady Lolita

Story blurb: From the POV of a man that is being sentenced to hang for a crime he didn't commit, to keep his brother alive.

Warning: Death, much angst

My name is Arden Marron, and I'm 36 years old, soon to turn 37. But, I'm not going to live to see my 37th birthday. No, I don't have a terminal illness, and no I'm not going to commit suicide, or anything like that. I'm going to hang. Yes, I'm going to be hanged sometime today, and no I don't regret this at all.

You see I'm innocent of the crime that I've been convicted of. Killing my cheating wife and her lover. I know who did it, though. It was my brother. He left town right after he did it, that night in fact. But, nobody in this one horse town cares about that, they only cared about the fact that they found me at the crime scene.

They only found my wife's lover, Derry. You see my brother knew that my wife was cheating on me, before I did. So, for some reason, he decided death was a good punishment for hurting his little brother. You see my wife was the only woman I ever really...trusted. And, she betrayed me, and for that, even I can't forgive her. That, and I understand my brother's thinking. I know that he didn't do this to hurt me; he did it to try to make things better, even though it didn't work. He left town, so he doesn't know what's going on. I expect maybe he does now, but he won't get back in time to stop anything and when he finds out I've already been hanged, he isn't going to turn himself in. It would mean I died for him for no reason. That's...how close we are.

Anyway...apparently, he hid my wife's dead body, but didn't think it was important to hide Derry's. Or maybe he did think it was important, but didn't have enough time. I don't know, and I suppose I never will. I don't really care. I'm just going to sit in this dirty cell, and wait for them to come and get me.

I know he'll be upset when he finds out I hanged for this, but he won't let me die in vain. I'm probably repeating myself, but hey its my day to die I can repeat my own thoughts as many damn times as I please.

I suppose, I'll go to Hell, because I'm not trying to save myself, and I'm going to have a lot of ill feelings toward my now dead wife. Sure, she was cheating on me, but I'm pretty sure the Good Book says that you shouldn't hold grudges against people. Well, if I do go to Hell, maybe I'll see Derry and my wife, there.

Don't get me wrong...I do miss my wife. I don't know if I loved her, now, though. Wouldn't I be more upset, and more willing to tell people who really did the murdering, if I had loved her? I do know that I trusted her, and now even if she was alive, I'd never be able to trust her again.

Then again we were only married for a year. No children. I wanted some, but she didn't. Then again, one year is sort of early to start a family if the bride wasn't already pregnant at the wedding.

Derry was also my best friend. I didn't know he was after my wife, or I probably would have moved far away from that town. Then, maybe all of this could have been prevented. So, in a way, maybe this is my entire fault because I'm not very observant.

There had to be signs to tell me that she was looking around at someone else, that Derry was acting like a wolf that needed to get laid. But, if there were, I didn't see them. I guess maybe my brother did, and he took care of it.

But, even so, I can't forgive her for what she did. I know it's probably my fault, but I still just CAN'T forgive her. I doubt I'll ever be able to, but maybe when I die, every bad feeling and thought will seem so pointless.

That brings me to something I've been wondering. On one hand, I'm pretty sure the Good Book says that I'm not supposed to hold grudges. That I'm supposed to turn the other cheek and forgive. But, if I don't, does that mean I'll go to Hell? Doesn't the Good Book also say that God is always forgiving?

Maybe, I should have asked for a Bible while I was staying in this cell. I've been praying to and just talking with God ever since I got put in here, I'm taking a break now, to just think over all the events that happened.

As I look out the window, I can pretty well figure what time it's near. They'll be coming for me soon. It's supposed to be done in the evening, my hanging. In fact, I think hear them coming now.

They open the cell door, to find me sitting on my cot, my head bowed a little, arms resting on my knees and my hands clasped lazily, in waiting. My hair is long and by now its matted. I look up, the first man I see, I look into his eyes. His eyes look hard, and accusing, the other man's look pitying and sympathetic. Mine, I can only assume and hope, have acceptance and readiness in them. They don't show sign that they see fear in my eyes. I expect the first man would have smirked.

I stand up, because I know that if I don't, they'll jerk me up. Reluctance certainly isn't going to stop them from taking me to my fate.

Of course, they have to put shackles on my wrists and ankles. Its to make sure I don't get any bright ideas about hurting the guards or running away, or harming anybody else.

I'm led slowly, even though the shackles have a chain long enough for normal strides. They could have used cuffs...but, hey, this is their way of doing things, not mine.

I'm lead outside and to the gallows, made to stand with a noose around my neck, and just wait while a couple of speeches are made, and some prayers are said.

This process takes forever. I look around at the people watching, friends and family of my wife and Derry. My own family's here, all but my brother. I made sure he was informed too late to get here.

I can see my mother crying, and my father looking at me. I don't know how to read the expression on his face. Other family members have faces of stone. I don't think it's sunk in, yet, to everyone that's here, that this is going to be permanent and that this isn't just some bad dream.

I can see Andrea's parents looking at me, too, instead of listening to the people talking. Both of them are angry with me, both of them are crying. Both glaring at me, as if I were the most evil person in the world. And, I guess, to them, I am. They think I murdered their only child, their daughter, and the person I was supposed to love and be devoted to.

Derry's father is the only one of his parents alive, and he is looking at me with a mix of anger and pity. He's torn between the two emotions and he doesn't know which one he should be feeling. So, he feels them both.

The friends that are here, I see they don't know what to think, either. I can look into their eyes and see their faces, and I can tell they're just as torn between emotions as Derry's father.

Finally, the men talking are finished taking turns, and the prayers are being said, everyone bowing their heads but I don't think everyone in the crowd is praying for my soul...not from the looks of some of the people, especially Andrea's parents.

Soon, though, the praying is over, and everyone raises their heads with the same looks on their faces. Those that didn't know what to think, still don't, those that are torn between emotions are still torn, those that are sad are still sad; those that are angry and feel hatred toward me are still angry and filled with hate. I can see it in their eyes and their faces.

Someone's speaking again, but my head is covered with a hood of some sort, so that nobody can see my face when I'm hanged. I can feel them making preparations with the noose and with the gallows.

And, all too soon, I hear the sound of a lever being pulled, and at the same time I hear my brother yelling and sounding as if he were out of breath from running and then I feel the floor dropping out from under me...


The End