The Last Time

The last time I saw her face, I was filled with pain; The last time I saw my own, I felt only disdain. Is this how it feels to be a criminal? Is this how it feels to be a monster? Is this how it feels…To be me? 'No!' A voice screams in my head. 'No! It is they who are wrong! Condemn them! God condemn them all!' But is this voice my own? Or is it just another one of my sick fantasies?

The last time I saw the sunlight was earlier, in the afternoon, before the sun set and left me in darkness. The shadows of the day becoming darker and turning into night, hissing my name as though I were Satan. Who's to call them wrong? After all, the sentence I am serving is of my own cause…Or is it? Could it be they're all liars: The venomous judge that banished me to this sorrowful place; The man that spoke to me from the darkness; The woman that taunts me in my dreams, claiming me a blasphemer?

The last time I truly felt peace was when I had my mother's hand to hold, when she was mine and I was hers. She was my salvation, my place of solace when storms laid waste to what was now my empty life. I have no feelings anymore, for I am a shell, an echo of the man I once was. Maybe I have simply lost my way, and a shepherd will guide me once again to the path that leads to redemption. Maybe I am to remain here, in this cold dark cell until the Death himself claims my soul for a torturous eternity in hell. Maybe I will be forgiven by God, and he will beckon me to his light, his glory.

The last time I spend in this cell is tonight, but a shocking revelation dawns on me: I cannot return to the world I once knew, nor do I want to. I wish to remain here, the place that one such as myself can call home. Is it a prison? Once, but not anymore. Is it my tomb? Perhaps. Is it my own warped interpretation of a place of holiness, where one may find peace in the darkest of times? Indeed. This home of mine, this grave, is the only thing I need now, and they'll all be damned if they think they can take me from it.

The last time I place my broken fingernails to my neck will be the finishing blow; The blow that brings an end to my misunderstood life. The last time I feel pain will be the indication that the Lord and his son, Jesus Christ, were coming to take me home, to a place beyond the stars. The last time I had a comprehendible thought was when I realized…I was already dead…And I already had fallen to the depths of Hell.