The Wall (CLOSED)

"..Fzzchak... We can see it. It's like a stage, god... What's wrong with these people?! They're standing there waiting to see him get killed! My god..." "Krzzzt.... Bzt... Can you see a noose or something?..." Chzt... "Nope.. But the angle isn't great, I cant see much. There's people everywhere, and there's gonna be way more in a little bit I think..." Bzzz bzzz... "Move around a bit okay? Try and figure out the number of guards, and check if it's going to be a firing squad or what." .... "Okay."

Canvas swiftly put the tiny radio away in the pocket of her pants, while making sure that no one had seen or heard that she had been communicating with anyone. Strangely, she looked very different than what she usually would. Her long hair was hidden under a black hat, one quite similar to those robbers used to wear back in the day, and an army green jacket, that actually belonged to Carl. She wore a pair of dark cargo pants, which did a great job of hiding the tiny knife she had in her pocket. She was the only one who knew she had it, since she was actually only supposed to be there to give the other guys that were hiding in the dark alleys and right by every single exit from the underground to the surface. All of them were ready, not to save Vincent, but to confuse the hell out of everything. On her signal all of them would know what to do. It would be grand... Or perhaps just the worst case of payback ever.

Canvas was going to join in, no matter what Clarence and Carl told her to do instead. This was her place, in the crowd, on the street, here to fight. The look on her face suddenly became one of utter determination, and with her fists clenched tightly she began trying to worm her way to the centre of the crowd. Already know, even though there were probably still more than an hour to the execution, people had shown up to get a decent spot. Canvas had quickly realised how disgusted she was with these other humans around her. Not only did they gossip like none other, not even under ground was it this bad, but they apparently found the murder of others to be entertaining. Then, she overheard something that made her turn her head and stare in wonder. A woman next to her, spoke words Canvas had never expected to hear. The woman was talking to someone who Canvas assumed was her friend.

"I can't wait to see him die. He should be hanged for what he's done!" She said, and the other woman was quick to follow up and continue the sentence, as if they were thinking exactly the same. "I know! He's just a murderer, thinking he has the right to go and take justice into our own hands! Just try and imagine if other people did that, the city would go up in flames!" Then a third woman entered the conversation, and what this woman said made Canvas realise just what it was Vincent had done to these people on the upside of the world she knew.

"He killed my daughter! I hope they blast his brains out!" Then, another person in the crowd spoke up, and declared that he agreed with the women. For some reason, Canvas had the sinking feeling that someone in the crowd was on to her, and knew who she was, she couldn't help to be scared. It was ridiculous, since it was obvious that no one could have any idea of her identity, or what she was involved in, but still... Every time she looked someone of the crowd in the eyes, she felt nothing but pure hatred. She felt that she was surrounded by evil ghouls, all out to get her.

And in that moment in which she was terrified of all, in which she wished for comfort but found none, it almost felt like back when her brother still had control of her. Control of her everything. Mind, soul, dreams and most painful of all, her body.

In her sick mind, she saw him right behind her, and it hurt. It was the fear. She hurried away from the crowd, worming her way through them once more. She had tears in her eyes again, and as she turned to look back, just to see if her fear was real... She caught a glimpse of approximately eight or nine guns lined up next to each other, guarded by five guards. "Oh, god.." She just whispered as she sunk to her knees, staring at the weapons.

-------------

Vincent hadn't moved from the spot where he had sat when Mr. Finney interrogated him. He was pretty much curled up in a ball, since he hadn't been able to wrap his mind around doing anything else, and even had the blanket of the bed wrapped around him, since he found that the clothes they had dressed him in while he had been unconscious, was not only highly unfashionable, (which frankly didn't matter at all, but still...) extremely thin, and very uncomfortable. The cell wasn't warm at all, so he just sat there and froze.

He couldn't avoid thinking that perhaps he had messed up. The seriousness of his situation had hit him in the face, just like if he had been slapped with an iron pipe. He almost seemed completely apathetic, and even somewhat catatonic. It wasn't pleasant, that's for sure.

When he had realised that he was about to be executed, he had almost cried in terror. Before, he had somehow managed to not think about it, and so he had been able to keep his spirits high, and seem courageous, without fear, and a leader that should be followed. He wasn't any of that, he just wanted to go to the beach with Olivia, and now he had ruined every single chance of that dream ever coming true. He hated himself for it. Not only for that actually, but also for having brought his own death upon himself. He dreaded what was going to happen, and he just wanted a little bit of comfort.

He wasn't ready to die. Not at all.

He didn't know where he had went wrong, perhaps when he had relied on someone to come and save him in the last minute, perhaps when he had promised the others their freedom, perhaps when he had listened to his dad, perhaps when he had refused to call his mother "Mom", perhaps when he had gotten the nail pulled out of his foot, perhaps when he had killed his younger brother's hamster, perhaps when he had started drinking, maybe when he had begun with the drugs... Maybe he had already been wrong from his birth?

There were so many points in time where it had gone wrong for him, but in the end, he was able to pinpoint exactly where he had screwed up the most. When he had failed to show Olivia his love for her.

That was why, when he raised his head at the noise of the door opening, and saw her enter, he was paralysed for a second, and then he ever so slowly stood up, still wrapped in the blanket, with a bandage around the top of his head, and found that he was unable to speak. He didn't know what to say, 'cause what if she wasn't real at all? But he moved towards her, and slowly a tiny smile, just like how he used to smile, the crooked Vincent smile, crept onto his face.

"Pretty Olive!" He said, his voice raspy and almost sounding as if it had rusted.

It took Olivia’s eyes a few moments to adjust to the different lighting in the cell as she stood there, Sam closing the door behind her. Her eyes instantly went in search of Vincent though and it was only a split second before they landed on him. Her mouth dropped open at the sight of him. He looked worn down, as if he had almost given up hope. The bandage around his head did nothing to help and only caused Olivia to worry more about him. In all honesty the bandage around his head should have been the last thing on her mind, but worrying about a bandage was a lot easier to do than to worry about how much longer he had with his heart still beating inside his chest.

As he walked towards her though, tears formed in her eyes. That smile! It had been that smile that had originally drawn her to him. It was one that she hadn’t seen in so long but every night in her dreams she would imagine it. It was Vincent’s smile. It was contagious as a smile crept onto her lips.

“Vincent…” Olivia said as she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his body, clinging to him as she heard him speaking her name, the one that only he called her. Olivia kept her arms around him as she pulled back enough that she could look up into his face. She had no intention of letting him go, not until it was time to go or unless he asked her to.

“Are you alright?” She asked him. Olivia knew that it was a stupid question to ask him when he was about to be executed but she didn’t know what else to say. There was so much she wanted to say but she was afraid of spoiling it. Olivia wanted to tell him that she loved him, that she always had and always would but last time she had told him her real feelings, it hadn’t ended well. She wouldn’t force that upon him. Surely he would know how she felt anyway without her having to say it. They had been through enough together and apart for him to know this by now.

Olivia also wanted to be able to explain about the baby. She had wanted to tell him but she had been too scared. Maybe she had felt a little guilty as well. Olivia had never imagined herself ever getting pregnant. She just wasn’t the motherly type. A kid didn’t need to grow up with a mother who drunk herself into oblivion at every opportunity and a father that was never there.

Any remote feelings of ever getting pregnant had always involved Vincent’s child. Olivia had always had the dream that if they were ever to have a kid, it wouldn’t be given much since they wouldn’t have much to give. What they would have had though was a happy, loving environment. That was all Olivia ever wanted. She just wanted to be with someone who loved her for who she was.

That person had always been Vincent. He hadn’t cared what she had done, he had always let her come crawling back to him.

He was the love of her life and Olivia was scared that she was going to loose him without even really being given the chance to be with him.

********

Outside the room Sam was leaning against the wall. He still didn’t think that letting Olivia in the same room as Vincent was a good idea, yet he strongly did believe that if he didn’t, she would leave him. Her connection with Vincent was too strong and they had too much history. Although after today, his competition would be gone and he knew that he would be the one that was there for her to pick up the pieces.

Sam stood there and let his hand move down into his pocket, his fingers wrapping around a small box. Inside the box was a very expensive diamond ring. He had planned on giving it to Olivia this morning at the hospital but Olivia had been too concerned about Vincent to give him the chance.

He wanted her to be his wife. Finally she would be his.

Sam knew that he didn’t love Olivia in the way that Vincent did but it was love all the same. Just a different kind.

He had instantly returned her hug, and still didn't quite let go of her, as she seemed to pull back a little, and take him into view. He suddenly grew very self conscious, and wanted this meeting to have taken place anywhere else in the world. He noticed how she stared at the bandage, and her tone as she asked him if he was all right, and mostly he wanted to throw himself to the ground and kick and scream his fear out. He just couldn't. A part of him wanted to be manly and show her that he didn't fear death at all. He would rather lie than show her that he was weak. This was perhaps one of the last parts of the true him that was left. He had realised how he had slowly, while missing Olivia, plucked away tiny bits of his soul and thrown it away, and now he wasn't the Vincent he knew. Most of all, it was just a masquerade now, a silly for a man who had lost from the beginning.

He wasn't even sure what he had been fighting for, for those four months any more.

He didn't know if he was strong or weak, and it scared him. He had always been so strong, both of body and mind, but now he was withered into a man that let fear get the best of him. And right there, as he stood and looked into her eyes, he wanted to call her a murderer. None of this would have happened, had she not gone away. Had she just stayed by his side, all of this could have been avoided. But still, he couldn't blame her for wanting to be happy. He couldn't hate her for wishing to stay in the sunlight, instead of down below ground, where even the air you breathed was depressing.

He didn't have the energy to hate anything, and it would be pointless to try, since he would die in just under an hour. So, trying to force the smile back on his face, he stared on through and nodded. "Yeah. I'm all right." Was the only words he could force over his cold lips. He felt so goddamn cold, and now, he would even settle for the underground, where there was at least a bit of warmth to find. Somewhere in depths there was warmth. "Fuck this..." he suddenly thought. "I miss home." The thought saddened him, and there was no doubt that it showed on his face.

But that was not the only thing on his mind. He was determined not to say "goodbye" to her, as he was sure that saying that word would make it all worse, then it really would be the end. The end of everything. Instead he spoke, his voice shaking, and him unable to look at her further. "Wha- What about y-you?" He asked, trying to smile at her once more. "You feel really w-warm." He then added. it was strange how he seemed to have forgotten the pain she had just gone through, and focus only on his own. It was selfish, sure, but also he didn't think any of them would get anywhere by discussing such things, and well, he didn't want to die even more depressed than he already was.

Quickly, he glanced at her again, and then he cracked. Or, more accurately, his defences, his barrier, whatever it was he had tried to hold on to, crumbled in his hands and turned into dust. Suddenly he lost control, and slowly, so very slowly, he felt tears running down over his cheeks. He couldn't breathe regularly, and it felt like whatever air he drew in, simply stopped before it reached his lungs. He felt as if his body was trying to finish him off, and get rid of him as fast as possible. Couldn't even wait 'till they'd killed him outside. Out in front of the masses. Just the thought of having to face them terrified him even more, just imagining to see all those faces he didn't know, all those people who hated him so much, oh, it would be the greatest of comfort if he could see just one familiar face in their midst. If there was only one who did not hate him. He wouldn't want it to be Olivia, he wouldn't want her to see it. But if he could just spend his final moments looking at her, unwaveringly, he would not fear death as much. He really wouldn't.

Suddenly, he wrapped his arms tighter around her, and held her close again. He hid his face in her hair, that to him smelled better than ever before. It was odd, how he in this moment of fear noticed the smell of her hair, but he did. There was something fruit-like, and a trace of flowers too. It smelled like summer. However, even though he was consumed by that thought, the tears did not cease to flow. He gasped for air, and then he managed to press a few more words over his cold lips.

"I'm so scared. I wanna go home, I wanna go home!" He sounded so much like a child, but he didn't notice it himself. He missed his tiny home, down underground in the dark. What he wouldn't give to rewind time and once more experience the happy days that hadn't seemed all that happy until he had left them behind. He would give his souls for just one more night where he could drink with his friends, get high, and forget that there was something called tomorrow. What he wouldn't give for one more party.

"I wanna go home..." He whispered.

---------------

She stared at the guns, unable to fully comprehend what was happening. The crowd was getting bigger and bigger with each passing minute, and it became harder and harder to see what was going on. She sat on the ground, and every few seconds or so, someone would walk by and look at her as if she was just a piece of chewing gum stuck on the sidewalk. It was terrible. She got back onto her feet, although it took her a few minutes to get her legs to work properly.

She made her way closer to the guns lined up, and tried for as much as she could to avoid further contact with the crowd. It didn't take long for her to get as close as possible, and now she was so close she could even make out a little of what the guards were saying to each other.

"30 minutes guys. They're gonna start preparing him now." Was the only sentence she clearly heard.

-----------------------------

Mr. Finney walked down the hall, accompanied by two guards and a doctor. He turned a corner, and to his surprise, he saw a familiar face standing in front of a door that led in to someone very important. He snickered to himself as he realised just how stupid Sam would have to be in order to show his face here. And even more so, he was sure that Sam wasn't just there to look pretty or be a nice guy and make sure that Vincent didn't get away.

He stopped right in front of Sam, and smiled that very ominous and oh so unpleasant smile of his, while he simply gave the two guards an order. "Take the Doctor to check up on Vincent." His voice sounded as if he couldn't be happier with the state of things, and the guards reacted immediately. With one of them glancing over at the other, the one nearest the door opened it up, and walked in, closely followed by the other, and then lastly the doctor.

Then a few seconds later, one of the guards spoke. "Mr Finney... There's a woman in here too. What should we...?" He asked, his voice sounding confused and full of doubt.

Mr.Finney just raised his brows a little, stared at Sam, and then spoke in the same tone as before. "Well, we can't have terrorist supporters walking around, so there's only one thing to do." He paused shortly.

"Kill her."

For Olivia it felt so good to have Vincent’s arms wrapped around her. She clung to him as if holding onto him would stop what was going to happen. However in truth it wouldn’t stop a thing. Olivia would be no match for the guards. She would just be tossed aside like a rag doll and her beloved Vincent would be taken out in front of the crowd. She couldn’t stop it. Although just being this close to him made her feel like there was a small amount of hope, as if there just might be a way of getting through this.

How could there not be?

There had to be people from the underground who would help him. He had sacrificed everything for them. How could they not have something planned? Or at least some sort of retaliation for what was being done to their leader. Olivia didn’t voice any of this though. What was the point? From now on what was going to happen was going to happen and Olivia didn’t want to waste a single moment with Vincent.

When he finally spoke Olivia knew that it was lie. He wasn’t alright. He looked terrified. His whole body was pale and cold, almost as if death had come for him already. His face was lacking the look of life that he had always possessed. His eyes though were the biggest give away. Deep inside them was the look of a scared little boy. One that was finally coming to terms with the consequences of his actions.

He asked how she was going and Olivia just shrugged her shoulders. It was almost as if she was becoming numb to all of this loss. She hadn’t really been given time to process it and it was almost as if it had never happened, that the baby had never existed.

As she looked up at him Olivia watched as slowly he began to fall apart.

He almost crumbled to pieces as he held onto her tighter and buried his face in her hair. Olivia held onto him tighter as tears began to form in her own eyes. She tried to be strong for him tough, a hand rubbing at his back trying to calm him down. It was his words though that upset her the most. What she wouldn’t give to be able to go back to all of that as well. To live where there wasn’t a care in the world. The two of them had both fought so hard to get away from it. Olivia had left and tried to conform while Vincent had fought with every ounce of strength in his body. Yet they had both failed to realise what they really had.

That dark, horrible place that they had both been fighting so hard to escape, was home. It always would be. It was where they belonged and where they had been together.

“I know… I want to as well Vincent…” Olivia whispered in his ear. “You have to be strong though… maybe, maybe we could try and escape or something? I could make some sort of distraction and then you could make a run for it? It could be like old times… we could pick a place to meet up and both run there” Olivia said as she remembered all the times that the two of them had planned out these sort of things. The last time though had been when Vincent had got shot.

Olivia was clutching at straws. She wanted to be able to tell him not to be afraid and that it was all going to be alright but she didn’t know that. Death scared her as well.


**************


Outside the cell Sam was still standing there thinking, his eyes looking at the watch on his arm. He could only afford to give Olivia two more minutes. Any more than that and they ran the risk of getting caught. He couldn’t believe that he had done this for Olivia, yet she had wanted it so badly. His thoughts stayed on her as he leant next to the door.

One final glance down at his watch and he realised that it was time to go. Before he could open the door and tell Olivia to get out of there, four people entered the corridor, one of which he knew very well. One thought ran through his mind as they approached and that was that Olivia was in a lot of trouble.

Sam stood there in silence as he watched as two of the guards and the doctor went into the cell. His eyes looked back up at Mr. Finney though as he looked back at him. It was like a contest of wits. The two of them not breaking eye contact until one of the guards came back out.

***********


As Olivia was trying to think up something more to say to Vincent as he clung to her the doors to the cell opened up and two guards and a doctor walked in. Olivia who was looking at the door instantly went to drop her hands away from Vincent as she stood there like a deer caught in a set of headlights, trembling slightly. Outside though she could hear the voice of the man who had been at the hospital, replying to one of the soldiers who had walked outside. His words though drained the colour out of her face as it was now her time to tremble.

***********


Sam looked at Mr. Finney with a desperate expression. “Please Sir, she just wanted to thank him for bringing her to the hospital. She said she needed to thank him before it was too late, that was all. Honestly!” Sam said, coming to Olivia’s defense. “She doesn’t support him at all… it just meant a lot to her that he tried to save our babies life. She knows that he needs to die and she knows that last night doesn’t make him a better person in any way. It was just a simple thank you. Please you can ask her yourself, she supports the government just as much as you and I do” Sam said, trying desperately to save the woman he loved.

He had barely payed any attention to her words, he had been too long away in his own self pity to notice much, although he clearly heard her voice cut through when she said that she wanted to go home too. If anything he just wanted to be back there with her, and live that happy life he had never appreciated. He wanted to be surrounded by all their friends, everyone they knew, he wanted to have so much more fun with all of them around. He wanted so many more memories of them, 'cause as it was right now, he couldn't think straight enough to remember their faces or their names. He remembered how they laughed and their smiles, he remembered how they smelled and how they spoke his name. That was all, there wasn't any more than that.

Thinking back, as he stood there in the seemingly endless moment where he held her, he could see the dust on the floor in his home as if he was laying right there, waking up from yet another night of the old life he knew so well. He missed vodka. He had been drinking pretty much only that since she left, and now he found that the taste he didn't really like after all, was what he needed to calm down. That, and then just sitting there, talking with Olivia, would be enough for him. He thought it strange that a man with dreams as simple as his could never had them come true. And his dreams weren't that far off from what anybody else dreamt of. Freedom, love, and all the rest. He had just taken it too far. He knew that now. He had wiped the tears of his face as she spoke, and had even pulled back a little seeing as he had calmed a lot down. That was when he got a really bad feeling.

And before he knew it, two guards and a doctor suddenly stood in the cell with him and Olivia, and he did not have any idea of what to do. His first thought was to try and jump them, but he guessed that it would make them panic and just shoot anything they could see. He didn't want that to happen.

The two guards stood for a few seconds and stared at him and Olivia, they really did look like they didn't know what to do about Olivia, and Vincent couldn't help but to find it at least a little funny that the guard actually had to go and ask Mr. Finney what to do. But then again, the forces up here had always been just as disorganised and confused as the one down under ground. There wasn't much of a difference when comparing the two, in fact the only difference he could see was that the guards above ground had better equipment than the other. That was it. Otherwise, it was just people. Just regular people trying to make something acceptable out of their lives.

But now he suddenly realised what was being said from outside. No. He wouldn't let them near her! There was no way she was going to die now, not now when she had found her freedom. The guard that had asked looked over at them, and to Vincent, it really looked like he didn't want to do it. He didn't look like he had any desire to kill anyone. Somewhere, deep down, Vincent instantly felt sympathy for him, and hoped that it wasn't this young man who would have to execute him. That would make him feel even worse about it all.

Then he heard what Sam was saying, and for the first and last time ever, Vincent sent out a nice thought to Sam. Right now, he knew that him and Sam were thinking the same. They had to get Olivia out and to safety. It had been such a bad idea for her to come to his cell, and now he wished that she hadn't showed up.

Vincent wasn't sure if he should shut up or shout out that Sam was telling the truth. He honestly had no idea what to do, but the choice was made for him when Mr. Finney entered the small room. It was unbelievable how it just kept pouring in with people, and that the ones in there could even move around. It didn't look like Mr. Finney even took notice of it, he just walked straight in and stopped in front of Vincent. The look on his face showed nothing but disgust, and truly, it scared Vincent. He tried to look brave though, not even knowing why.

"Is that true? Hm, is it? Terrorist!" That was all he said as he grabbed onto the collar of Vincent's shirt to pull him closer. Mr. Finney glared into Vincent's eyes, and all he could do was stare back as a puppy scared of it's master. He didn't dare defend himself as he would if there weren't two people aiming guns at him. That was what he told himself at least, but truly, he didn't even know if he would've done it then. He knew that no matter what, Mr. Finney knew exactly who Olivia was, and he was just asking for the sheer satisfaction in seeing Vincent so scared.

"..I-I... Yeah." He finally said, not even looking anywhere else than into the eyes of Mr. Finney. He knew that there was only one thing he could say, even though it would break his, and maybe even her, heart to let those words be spoken or heard. "I don't know who she is. She's just a stranger, yesterday I helped her out, and that's it. She's not a terrorist supporter! She's just a lady who lost her baby, and I'm sorry Mr. Finney, but couldn't you try and be just a little considerate? Coming in here and accusing her of that wacked shit! That's jus-" His words were abruptly stopped by Mr. Finney who had just thrown Vincent halfway across the tiny room. He had hit face-first into a wall, and had lost pretty much all idea of what was going on. Now he wanted to fight back, but as soon as he tried to move he legs buckled under and he just fell over. That was it.

Mr. Finney looked around the room, first at the guards and the doctor, and then at Olivia. There was no room for objections when he gave all of them an order, and there was even less room for hesitance. "Get out." He just said to them, and in seconds, the guards and the doctor were all out and on their way down the hall. Mr. Finney turned his attention back to Vincent again, and said something he'd wanted to say since the day before. "And you can trust, Vincent, that if I ever see her again, I will make sure she dies a horrible, painful death.

----------------------

The time was drawing closer, the crowd was drawing impatient. The underground people lurked in the shadows, and they were getting ready to wage war on the street of their beautiful city. Soon, it would be soon.

Olivia stood there trembling as Sam spoke. She knew that he was trying desperately to save her and she appreciated it. Sam had always taken good care of her. He had looked out for her and provided for her. He had given her the life above that she so desperately wanted and he had given her a chance at a normal life. Olivia would never be able to thank him enough. Yet as he spoke, Olivia wasn’t sure if she wanted him defending her anymore.

Olivia didn’t want to die…

But she didn’t know if she could go on without Vincent.

Maybe it would be better to just give in now and go out with him. The two of them standing on that stage with the guns pointed towards them. Maybe they would finally have the chance to be together in death.

Olivia wanted to scream out that she was a supporter, that she was in love with Vincent and that she was from the underground. Her mouth opened but nothing came out. Olivia was scared. She didn’t want to die, yet she wasn’t sure if she could live. The fear of the unknown was stronger and she just stood there shaking.

As Mr. Finney walked into the room she saw that Sam had followed him. Sam took one look at Olivia and knew that she was possibly about to blow the cover that he had just crafted for her. He prayed that she would just keep her mouth shut for once. However before Olivia could speak up Mr. Finney was grabbing hold of Vincent and the pairs attention was turned to watch. Both of them scared of what Vincent would say. It was all up to him.

Sam need not have worried though. Vincent told a convincing lie.

For Olivia though, it just sounded too real.

Olivia felt her world crumbling down around her. It was like the last time. The way he spoke, it was as if he really didn’t know her. It was as if he didn’t care in the slightest about her and was just trying to smart mouth Mr. Finney like he had always done with people of authority.

Deep down she knew that what he was saying was a lie. Yet it still hurt. For him to actually say those words, for those to be the last ones that he would ever say to her, it hurt more than the last time he had rejected her. After all they had been through together, for him to be able to say that so convincingly made Olivia second guess exactly where she stood with him.

Somehow she managed to keep control of her emotions, to keep a steady face. Her eyes gave everything away though. They were filled with hurt and with love. This was the hardest thing she had ever done. Olivia knew that she had to walk away. To save herself she had to also deny Vincent. Could she do it though? Olivia wasn’t sure of the answer. Part of her still wanted to die with Vincent. Another part of her was scared of death and knew that Vincent would hate her if she didn’t walk away. He had always protected her. Even in their silly stupid stunts above ground, he had always made sure that she was safe by sacrificing himself. This time it was no different.

All of this ran through her mind in a matter of a few seconds. It was almost as if time had slowed right down. Suddenly it then sped right back up again with Vincent being tossed across the room.

Olivia covered her mouth as she tried not to scream out with fright. Sam gave her a stare that clearly told her to keep her mouth shut and to not give anything away. She tried her hardest as she watched Mr. Finney’s gaze land on her. It made her feel small and guilty. The only thing she had done wrong was fall in love with Vincent. She should have nothing to feel guilty about but Mr. Finney’s gaze chilled her to the bone. Olivia instinctively wrapped her arms around her stomach, forgetting for that brief moment that there was nothing left inside of her.

Her eyes lowered to stare at the ground as Mr. Finney ordered the guards and the doctor to leave. Sam stayed where he was in the doorway behind Mr. Finney, ready to get Olivia out of there as soon as they were given permission to leave.

Mr. Finney’s next words though was not the permission that Sam had been hoping for. He knew that from this day forward that Mr. Finney would be watching out for Olivia. One wrong move and he would have her killed. She would be walking a very fine line, yet she was alive for now and that was better than how this could have turned out.

Olivia on the other hand was terrified. Her life was becoming more and more controlled. She missed the freedom of underground. What was there left to live for if Vincent was no longer here and she was being forced to conform completely? She would have nothing.

As Mr. Finney finished his threat, Sam piped up. “Yes Sir. You have been more than gracious and I can promise you that she will be the perfect citizen from now on. You will not have any trouble with her” Sam said as he made a move to go and stand beside Olivia. “I need to get her back home and into bed with your permission Sir? Doctor’s orders after the miscarriage and I am sure you have things to do to prepare this terrorist for the death he deserves” Sam said as he took hold of Olivia’s arm to steady her.

One look at her and you could see how frail and delicate she was looking. It was like she could pass out at any moment. All of the colour had left her face and her body was shaking like a leaf. Sam held onto her to both steady her and to help support her out of the room. He also wanted to make sure she didn’t do anything stupid. That was the last thing he needed after trying this hard to save her.

Olivia turned to look at Vincent though. A look of desperation on her face, like she was torn between what to do next. Did she walk away from him or did she confess what had really gone on and die with the man she loved? Olivia just didn’t know. Her eyes studied Vincent’s face though, trying to look to him for answers.

Mr. Finney glared at Sam as the man spoke. At once, when he had finished his speech about how good of a citizen the woman, Olivia, would be, he had a sudden urge to vomit. He was disgusted by the cowardice of Sam, and immediately, he started thinking that he just might ought to get rid of him too. He could say that Sam was a traitor, bringing people up from underground so they could participate in this, now failed, rebellion, and change the world. No one dared object to that if it was Mr. Finney who said it, for truly, he was scary, not only the authority he carried himself with, there was also his confidence, and then his sheer size. The man was, after all over two metres tall, and wide over the shoulders. He wasn't the type of person you'd wanna insult, at least not if he had a chance of finding out who you were. If anything, you'd just run from him. None the less, Mr. Finney came to the sudden realisation that he liked Vincent far more than he liked Sam, simply because the chances of Vincent ever succumbing to anything, or dropping to the level Sam had dropped to was infinitely small. Vincent had that little bit of fight in him, although there wasn't much right in the moment. That was probably just because getting your head slammed into a brick wall could fuck you up, just a little.

Mr. Finney walked closer to Sam, so he was right in front of him, like he had been with Vincent, just moments earlier. This time, however, he looked much more threatening. He had clenched his fists tightly, he was breathing slowly, and his eyes were almost red, and opened wide, making him look like he was just about to snap and go on a mad rampage, armed with an axe and a lust to kill every person coming near him. He refused to let Sam look away, and still, with a smile, he finally spoke to him. "Get out. And take that USELESS woman with you!" All of a sudden he was yelling at him, finally letting go of all his control. Few might have noticed, but truly, when a man has so much pent up anger as Mr. Finney had, they would always, always, just be waiting for a chance to let go and murder, scream, rape, all sorts of things that could hurt others. That would always in the end be what that type of person would want, to hurt somebody.

He looked over at Olivia, moving close to her like he had done with Vincent and Sam before her. He could see how she trembled with fear, she was looking like she could die every second, and for a moment he considered just taking her out of her misery. He chuckled with joy inside himself, and he was sure that his smile revealed just how much fun he was having with the situation. He turned around to find out what she had been looking at, and his smile grew even wider when he discovered what it was. He was now staring into the eyes of Vincent, and it was obvious that the guy had lost all track of what was going on. He had just been looking into her eyes, wishing that this wasn't true, that he would wake up and that it had just been a terrible nightmare, just a dream, and nothing more. It was just too bad that Mr. Finney knew that it wasn't a dream, it was more real than anything else. He had suspected it since he had seen them together at the hospital, he had seen what this woman did to Vincent, she had made him human, even thought the chances of the child being his were small, Vincent had acted so caring towards her. He hadn't for one second believed that she was just a stranger, for he knew how Vincent was with strangers, he had killed them, not tried to get them to the hospital and save their child. They had been foolish to try and lie to him, it had been lost right from the start.

Then, Vincent moved. It wasn't much, in fact it was nothing but him reaching his hand a bit forward, he was reaching out to her. Right there, in that moment, Mr. Finney wondered what was passing through Vincent's mind, what he was thinking of. Was he really lost? Was he insane and deep inside laughing at all of them? Was it just a joke, and all of a sudden they would jump out and yell surprise! No, they wouldn't, that he was sure of. The smile still on his face, he walked to Vincent's side, where he stood for a moment, looking at the man on the ground before him. Then with no warning, or anything, he pulled his foot back, and then he kicked Vincent in the back with so much force Vincent could do nothing but scream in pain and curl up just like any other man would do. The didn't make Mr. Finney stop however. He kicked again, and again, right until he heard a strange cracking noise from Vincent's body. The man on the ground didn't say a sound, but he was still breathing, the he could clearly see. Vincent wasn't dead, and good for him. If it didn't take more to kill him, then Mr. Finney wouldn't have been satisfied at all.

He looked over at Olivia again, and then at Sam. Then he grabbed a hold of Vincent's shoulders, and pulled him to his feet. Vincent had no chance of standing, so Mr. Finney held him up as he pulled him over in front of Olivia. He placed both hands on the sides of Vincents head, and forced him closer to her. with a smile, Mr. Finney spoke again.

"Look at him. LOOK!" This is how you're going to remember him! Look, he's broken, he's about to die, and he's too far away to even recognise you anymore. Remeber him like this, woman, and know that it's too late now. He has no idea who you are, he doesn't care what happens to you, He doesnt love you!"

Vincent breathed shallowly, not reacting to anything at all. Mr. Finney was right, it was too late now. Even if somebody tried to save him, it would be in vain. But still, as he was held there, right in front of her, he spoke. His voice was thin and fragile, there was no doubt that he had mustered up all his strength to say what he told her right there, between only the two of them.

"Next... li... fe."

Mr. Finney then hurled him away once more, in fact he only turned his body, and Vincent could only follow. Soon, he was on the floor again. Laying there, just laying there. Mr. Finney had his back turned to the two others, when he spoke the final words to them. "Leave. But please stay to wacth the execution." He then waited for them to leave, silently.

Sam just wanted to get Olivia the hell out of that room. He knew that to everyone else he probably looked like a weak fool. However he was just playing his part. There was a time to fight and there was a time to give in. This was a time to give in. Mr. Finney was a powerful man. At the snap of his fingers he could have Olivia dead right there and that was something that Sam didn’t want. There would be a time to prove himself later on but for now, he just took what was handed to him, even if it made him look weak.

As Mr. Finney’s voice raised at him, Sam just stood him ground and didn’t flinch. He didn’t move to turn away and just looked right back into the man’s eyes. What he saw there was not something he wanted to see. It was like Mr. Finney was out of control. Sam had never seen him like this before. Sure, he had seen him get angry but never like this. This was like he seriously wanted to hurt someone and Sam just prayed that it wasn’t him and it wasn’t Olivia.

Olivia on the other hand flinched. She didn’t have the training or the emotional strength to withdraw from this and be able to stand there in a detached manor. In truth it was pretty amazing that she hadn’t broken down by now. As he walked over to her, Olivia could feel herself trembling. She had never been through anything like this before. Maybe if she could have a sip of vodka it would calm her nerves… or maybe if she had a whole bottle she wouldn’t be feeling so afraid. Never had she wanted to drink as much as right in that second.

Her eyes moved from Mr. Finney back to Vincent, a desperate and loving expression on her face. She just wanted to be with him. As Vincent stretched out his hand for her, Olivia knew that his words had been lies. He did care for her. Before she could respond though, Mr. Finney did. Olivia screamed as she watched Mr. Finney attacking Vincent. She had never seen anything so cruel and violent in her life and she had seen a lot of things living underground. At one point she buried her head in her hands to try and shield her eyes but a sickening crack that came from Vincent’s body made her look up. The blows kept coming though as Olivia just shook her head.

Sam stood there emotionless. One part of him thought that what Mr. Finney was doing was out of line and was worried about the effect it would have on Olivia. Another part of him was glad that Vincent was being punished like this. He had never liked him, never liked what he stood for or because of the feelings he invoked in Olivia. He kept the emotions from his face and just looked above where Vincent’s body was, almost as if he was pretending it wasn’t happening.

When Mr. Finney finally stopped and brought Vincent to a standing position in front of Olivia, she wanted to look away. She didn’t want to see Vincent like this. He had always been such a strong individual that to see him like this was almost crippling. Vincent deserved better than this. Even if he was to be executed, he deserved to walk out there with his head held high. Not like this.

It was the words though. The words spoken by Mr. Finney that got to her the most. They pierced through her heart and Olivia was just about to tell him to kill her as well, that she had nothing left to live for when Vincent spoke up.

It was two simple words.

Two words, that to anyone else would have been nothing.

But to Olivia, they were everything.

She knew that no matter what happened now the two of them would be together. They were meant for each other. Not in this life but in the next. The two of them would have their happily ever after, they would live on the beach and would have two kids. They would no longer drink because when they were as happy as they would be, there was no need to try and forget. They would finally be able to be honest with each other about how they really felt and there would be nothing and no one stopping them from being together forever.

They just had to wait until the next life.

Olivia simply smiled at Vincent. There was nothing more she could do. He knew how she felt and now finally, he had admitted to himself and to her how he felt. There was nothing more that she could do here. Despite Mr. Finney’s words, he had said it. He had finally giving the indication that he felt the same way as her. Mr. Finney was wrong.

Vincent did love her.

For a brief moment Olivia just smiled at Vincent before she felt Sam pulling on her arm. Mr. Finney was talking again, telling them to leave. Sam nodded his head and without saying another word he started to pull Olivia from the room. Olivia followed for one or two steps before turning back to Vincent.

“Goodbye Vincent” Olivia said in a soft voice as she left the room with Sam. This was the second time she had left Vincent, she had said goodbye and walked away with Sam. Yet this time would be the last time.

Out in the hallway, Olivia turned to Sam. “We have to find Vincent’s people” Olivia said in a hushed voice. “I need to help. I need to find out what the plan is to save him” Olivia said as she started to drag Sam along. She knew exactly who she needed to find.

The girl with the blue hair!

Canvas once again moved through the crowd of people. It was getting harder and harder to get anywhere, and each second, the crowd got even bigger. She felt like they were trying to suffocate her, squeeze her to death as the cockroach she was. She couldn't be anything else to them. She tried her best to slip by unnoticed, but every few seconds, someone looked her in the eyes by sheer chance, and she couldn't help but to feel that they knew what she was doing. Why did that thought resurface again and again? It was horrifying. Now she regretted having come up in the sunlight, she should've stayed in the underground shadows, in the darkness, where all was good, and there was no fear, besides the fear of going to bed hungry. That was all, but here, why had she wanted to leave the comfortable dark for this? She understood now, the light could only burn, and this, she did not want at all. Still, she couldn't just run away. Vincent weighed too heavily on her mind and if she just ran off, and hid from the truth now, she would disappoint him. How many times in those four months had he not told her?

"The things that will happen is things that have to happen. I know that in the future they will say we could've reached our goal by opening a dialogue with them, but they will only say that because they do not understand. If we had only talked, they would have shot us down. We had to make them fear us, we had to turn into the evils of this city, for had we taken the road others would have, then we would have failed. Canvas, horrible things will happen, things you do not understand, but you have to know this: It has to be like that. Sacrifices will have to be made, for no one cares for a rebellion with no martyrs."

His words, Vincent's words. Had she really been foolish enough to think that everyone could come out of this alive? No, she now realised that graves had already been dug, and she couldn't do anything to change it. But what is she could find the others, Clarence and Carl, anybody from the severs would be just fine. She just had to talk to someone, for she couldn't just stand and watch him die, she couldn't. She headed for one of the alleys, the darkest one in sight, since she was sure that if they were there, and hiding, they would've slipped silently into the shadows. Then, once more, her eyes caught another's. This time, it was those of a guard, and his cold stare made her want to crawl in the dirt before him, she had never before in her life been as scared as she was now. She wondered if she smelled differently than everybody else, was there a certain stench of sewer about her? Or was it maybe the way she walked? Did she stand out because of that? Was it her hair, the blue locks, she then thought. Why did they look at her like they did. She wanted them to go away, she wanted to hide from their accusing eyes.

But there was no escape. Every second, A memory of Vincent flashed through her mind. The loving drunken Vincent, the stoned out and far away Vincent, the Vincent that focused solely on the plan, the Vincent that had turned on her and attacked her. She understood him and didn't even blame him, although there was still marks on her neck. She hadn't been left unmarked either. But despite it all, there was one Vincent she remembered clearer than all the rest. The one that sat silently and stared out in the distance, consumed by his own thoughts. Canvas had always known what was on his mind. Olivia, his dearly beloved Olivia. She took a breath, and freed herself from the gaze of the guard, disappearing into the crowd once more.

Mr. Finney stared at Vincent's lifeless body, laying completely still on the floor where he had been left. "Strange how fragile the human body is, isn't it Vincent?" He asked, his voice loud and clear, under control, not revealing any emotions at all. And why should he even feel? It had no use for him, it was better to be without it, and should someone disagree, he could always just show them Vincent as an example. Really, what could be a better example than a broken and battered man, trying to change the world. And for what? Love? Freedom? Art? Because he simply just could? Mr. Finney had little interest in knowing, but still it would be nice to know. "Why did you do it? Why turn yourself into this?" He said, sitting down on the bed, looking at Vincent's face. It didn't seem like he was able to answer, but he blinked his eyes once. Just once. "Two for yes, one for no?" Mr. Finney then asked, grinning at Vincent. Was he really going to play such games minutes before his death?

"For the sake of revolution?" Mr.Finney asked. One blink.

"For Freedom?" Was the next question. One blink again.

"For food?" One blink.

"....... For fun then?" Two blinks.

Mr. Finney broke out in loud laughter. He really was the same Vincent as before, he had no more to fear now that he was already broken. Mr. Finney smiled at him, and then whispered to him. "You know, if you hadn't been a terrorist, I think you and I could have gotten along just fine, Vince." He then said. Three guards then appeared in the door, Mr. Finney turned his head and looked at them, and then asked the last question needed. "Is it time now?"

Sam listened to Olivia’s words as they walked out of the room and just frowned. He wasn’t going to talk to her about this here. Not inside this building where there was so much security and too many people willing to turn others in. Instead her just settled with a firm expression on his face and walked quickly out with Olivia. It only took a few minutes before they were back upstairs and were walking out the main entrance of the building. Stepping outside though, the two of them could quickly see how much the crowd had grown. It would be safe to say that nearly all the city was going to be here.

Olivia took a sharp intake of breath as she saw the stage where they were going to kill Vincent. She had to find that girl, or even Clarence. She just needed to find someone and help out. She didn’t know how much help she would be but it was Vincent’s last hope and she wanted to save him. He couldn’t die… he just couldn’t. Olivia wasn’t going to allow it.

As they walked outside though, Sam grabbed hold of Olivia’s arm and pulled her over to the side, just on the edge of the crowd against one of the buildings.

“We are going back to Lucy’s” Sam said in a firm tone. He had been weak inside and he had been weak when Olivia asked to go and see Vincent, but he was not going to allow this. He had already saved her from Finney twice, next time she wouldn’t be so lucky.

Olivia just shook her head. “Sam! We have to try and help” She said as if it would be completely stupid to do anything but. Olivia was just terrified of loosing Vincent. He meant the world to her and even though she had said goodbye to him downstairs in the cell, she wasn’t ready to see him die. She just couldn’t let that.

“Olivia, I have saved you twice from Finney, he is going to kill you next time he see’s you. You cant get involved with these people. They are terrorists! Vincent knew that was who he was, he knew he was going against the law and now he has to pay the consequences. You don’t have to! Olivia you can just walk away now and have a long and happy life” Sam said trying to get her to come with him.

“No… Sam… I have to try and help. Please” Olivia said, begging him to let her stay. As much as she loved Vincent, she also cared about Sam. She didn’t want to hurt him.

“No Olivia” Sam said in a firm voice. He was going to remove her by force if she wasn’t going to come willingly. He wouldn’t stand by as she risked her life for someone who was going to die and he wasn’t going to let her watch him be killed. “Let’s go” He said as he took hold of her arm to lead her away from the growing crowd.

As he gripped hold of her arm, Olivia tried to pull away, not wanting to go but he held onto her arm tight as he began to walk away. Consequently Olivia was forced to stumble after him. This was another one of her problems with being so petite, she found it really hard to fight back physically. Sam had so much more strength than her that he could quite easily drag her along.

“Please Sam no!” Olivia begged over and over again as he pulled her through the crowd. In order to get back to Lucy’s they needed to cross over to the other side of the square. People looked at her a little as they crossed but no one tried to help her. Not only had there been laws like the introduction of the wall and other such things but there had also been a change to the laws in women’s rights. They were not as strong as before and it gave the right to the husband to do with his wife as he wished as long as he didn’t kill her. Olivia knew that the people around her were not going to help her because they thought that Sam must have been her husband.

Sam just ignored her. He knew that she would probably hate him for this but he couldn’t let her stay and risk her life for Vincent. Her life was so much more valuable than his. Sam continued to drag her through the crowd with a tough and determined expression on his face. The execution would be soon and he wanted to be far enough away so that Olivia wouldn’t hear the shots.

However that was when Olivia spotted someone. She had only seen the girl a few times but she knew exactly who she was. Olivia would never forget the girls face. She had been the one that Vincent had gone to for help over her. She had been the one that had broken her heart and had replaced her. Olivia had no idea what had gone on between Vincent and this girl with the blue hair but she knew it was something deep. As she saw her Olivia cried out “Hey!” a sound which would only have been heard by the closest four people around them since the crowd was so loud. Reaching out Olivia grabbed hold of the girls arm as she forced Sam to have to stop walking.

Sam turned around to see that Olivia had indeed found her blue haired girl. Sam sighed. “Olivia, come on!” He said as he went to continue pulling her away as Olivia stood her ground. “Please Sam, we need to help… I need to know there is a plan” Olivia said as she spoke the last bit to the girl.

“Please! There is a plan to save him right” Olivia said to the girl, her voice desperate as if this was the last thing holding her together. In truth it was. Olivia was clinging to the hope that the rebellion or group of terrorists had some sort of plan to get Vincent out of this and to make sure he didn’t die. If not, then what more did she have to live for?

Suddenly something grabbed a hold of her arm, someone behind her. At once she was convinced that she had been found out, and that the person who held on to her was the guard from before. She could imagine herself turning around and looking into that man's eyes again, and as she did, her heartbeat would quicken, she would begin to sweat, she would feel how her lips and the inside of her mouth turned dry, and then he would talk to her. He would say that she was arrested, and then it would be over for her. They would bring her up on the stage, and no matter how much she would fight against it, she wouldn't be able to stop them. They would tie her to a wooden pole, the one prepared for Vincent and then the crowd would turn silent. Everyone would keep in their breath, and none would make any noises. Then tears would slowly begin to trickle down her cheeks, she would hyperventilate, and be unable to breather. Then, she would hear the sound of the cloth of the guards uniforms when they raised their weapons, and aimed at her. She would hear someone far off give an order, she would sob uncontrollably, and begin to whimper like a lost puppy, and then, she would hang her head, and wish for it all to be a lie, a dream. She would close her eyes, and catch one final glimpse of her blue locks, those in all shades of blue, like the ocean, like the sky, even like the eyes of a Sibirian Husky.

Then there would be a countdown. A man would start counting at five, and then down. She would cry more and more for each number he called out, until he would reach one, because then, she would raise her head, and look at the guards. She would shake her head slowly, almost moving so little it couldn't be seen, and then, Canvas would feel her body being pierced over and over again by bullet after bullet. She would scream in pain and fear, until a kind soul would take mercy on her, and shoot her either in the head or the heart. Then she would die.

But when she turned around her eyes already widened in fear, it surprised her that it wasn't a guard she saw. At first she didn't get what she was being asked at all, the words didn't make sense to her in any way. "..What...?" She just muttered, her voice whispering and about to fade into nothing. Plan? What was she talking about? Of course there was a plan, they weren't running around like headless chickens anyway. Sure, there was a plan to save Vincent. Canvas just didn't know what it was. Could she tell Olivia that? Looking into the eyes of this woman she had never talked to before, yet still she knew her so very well, her initial thought was "No. Of course you can't tell her that. You can't tell this woman he loves above all else that you don't know how to fix this. You can't tell her that you're aou of touch with the rest of the group, and that you're about to choke on the air up here. You can't tell her that you can't help her. No matter what you can't tell her that."

"I- I don't know." She then answered, keeping her voice low. Looking just as broken and desperate as Olivia did. "I'm sorry, I don't know!" She then repeated, a little louder. She wanted to turn and run around, she wanted to get away from Olivia, for just looking at her made everything worse. "You shouldn't be here! Go away, go home! He wouldn't want you to see this!" She then continued. She felt strangely sorry for this woman, more sorry than she felt for herself in fact. That was something very rare, Canvas was so rarely empathetic, but now she was. "You should leave!" Canvas then told her, unsure of what else to say. It would be so horrible if Vincent's eyes met Olivia's in the crowd, for Canvas was sure, that if that happened, Olivia would look into his eyes as he died. What could be more terrifying than that? Why was she even there to begin with? If this was some sort of attempt at saying goodbye, then it was goddamn stupid. Who would willingly put oneself through something like that?

Canvas didn't understand, but at the same time, she didn't feel that she had to. When they would bring Vincent out to face the mob, it wouldn't matter anyway. Nothing would. And what if the wall got torn down, what if the government was gone, what if they had freedom forever, and could be happy and go where ever they pleased? None of them would feel that it mattered when they had gotten freedom this way. The Price Of Freedom he had called it. But what was it? The fear that filled her now, the fear that made her shiver, and freeze? Was it the fear that surely numbed him right in this instant? was it that some had to live and die, knowing they were killers? Was it that some could go to bed every night, thankful that they could leave town the next morning if they wanted to? Was it knowing that there was room for them all in the light? Even those who were lost and dying inside?

Maybe it was. But was it worth it? No. Not at all. She would rather be in captivity with her friends, than alone outside of the cage.

Two more guards appeared in the door, these two carrying a gurney to carry Vincent on. Mr. Finney wasn't surprised that is was the kind with belt-like straps to keep Vincent securely in place. Not that it would matter though. He wouldn't go anywhere. He looked at them, a childish look of innoscense in his eyes. Vincent just laid still on the floor the wheezing and desperate sound of his breathing filling the room. "Well, do come in." Mr. Finney said, smiling. He wondered what they thought as they stood there, the innoscent men, who carried guns and shot those a little more innoscent. Did they see him as a murderer, or was he a hero for what he had done? Regardless of what they thought, it was about time they got this execution over with. One could only dwell by nothing for so long.

It was obvious it hurt Vincent when they moved him. They placed him on the gurney, which they had put on the floor to make it easier. Mr. Finney could see how none of the guards were happy about their duties in this moment, for killing a man is much harder when you look into his eyes, and understand why he did as he did. Killing a man that could have been your friend, but wasn't, by a storke of fate, is far from easy, when you know, it could've been you.

It could've been you.

They strapped him down by his neck, his chest and waist. His wrists and ankles too. He couldn't move out of place, and he didn't look like he wanted to try anyway. In fact, his eyes were just blank and shiny, as if he had already died. "Dying inside." Mr. Finney thought to himself as they carried Vincent out of the cell, and down the hallway. He looked terrible, but a murderer deserved nothing more than that. With each step closer to the stage, the noise from the crowd outside grew louder. He suddenly had a strange bubbly feeling inside, a mixture between joy and fear. At the end of the hallway, there was a square of blinding light, growing larger the closer he got. The door that lead to the stage, the final stage for Vincent. He glanced at the face of this other man, and then turned his attention back to the task at hand. It would only be unnecesarry to find sympathy for the terrorist.

And then, the last steps leading to the door, and then he was blinded by the light. The noise was almost deafening, but instead of backing away, he walked to the edge of the stage, and waved to the crowd. They cheered and waved back, and when the gurney was brought to rest against a pole in the middle of the stage, exposing Vincent to the crowd, so they all could see him, their cheers turned into rageful cries and accusations.

"This is it!" Was mr. Finneys only thought as his gaze ran over the people in front of him, a wide smile on his face.

Sam had seen the fright in the girl’s eyes which was something that Olivia hadn’t even noticed in the slightest. He knew what was probably going through her mind. She had thought that she had been caught and that she would be accompanying Vincent up on that stage in a matter of minutes. A small smile crept over his face at the idea. He liked the way that the government could instil fear in people, it meant that all the hard work was paying off. Although Sam wasn’t as radical as Mr. Finney he liked the wall and he liked the conforming nature of the government and what it instilled over the people. He thought that to live a happy life one had to have restrictions and know ones place. It just made things work.

However the smile on Sam’s face was short lived. He still needed to get Olivia out of here. He was praying that the girl didn’t tell Olivia about some grand plan to save Vincent and offer her a place in it. He knew that if this happened, Olivia would do it. She would have done anything for Vincent at this stage, even jump in front of the bullets if Sam had let her close enough to the stage. As the girl spoke in a low voice, looking just as desperate for some kind of hope he knew that his chances of getting Olivia out of here were not dashed.

Olivia watched the girl with a glimmer of hope in her eyes. This girl had been a huge part of the terrorist group, she had been close to Vincent so she had to know what was going on. She even remembered how it had been this girl who had replaced her when Vincent got shot. He had sought this girls help rather than her own so she must have been something special. All this hope vanished with three little words.

“I- I don’t know”

She felt the colour and hope drain out of her face. This girl was no more informed than she was. Olivia saw it now. She saw the desperate expression on the girls face which showed that she was waiting for the same thing. Deep down both of the girls were looking for some kind of hope but neither could give it to one another. Olivia didn’t know what she had been thinking. How could Vincent get out of this? How could his execution possibly be stopped at this close a time? It just wasn’t possible.

Standing there in shock, Olivia was hardly paying attention to what the girl was saying about her not being here and it not being what Vincent would have wanted. This girl had been her last hope at saving Vincent and now she was telling her to give up and go home? Olivia just felt so lost that she didn’t even know where home was anymore. Was it above or below ground? She felt drawn to both worlds and it was tearing her apart from the inside.

Sam couldn’t have thanked this girl enough. At least someone was talking sense, someone agreed with him that he had to get Olivia out of here before Vincent was brought to the stage. He gave the girl a thankful look before he wrapped his arm around Olivia. “Come on… let’s get you out of here… you don’t need to see this” He said as he began to turn Olivia away from the blue haired girl before pausing to say something. “You should go too… I am guessing you were close to him as well and if so, this isn’t something you should see” He said to the girl. Sam wasn’t a complete monster, even if he acted like one at times; he still had a few soft spots.

Before they could walk more than ten meters there was an erupting noise from the crowd. Both Sam and Olivia looked up and over the heads and saw Mr. Finney walk out of the big wooden doors to greet the crowd. People cheered and clapped for him as if he was some kind of royalty. Sam knew that there was no way that they were going to get out of this crowd now before Vincent was wheeled out but he sure as hell was going to try. Olivia stood frozen as she watched the man who had threatened her life stand up there waving to the crowd as Sam continued to pull her through the crowd. That was until another noise could be found erupting from the audience.

This time it was not positive. People began to Boo and hiss as Vincent was wheeled out onto the stage. All around them people began to scream and cheer, calling out for his death as if they were savages demanding blood. It was horrible and as it happened people began to pack together, pushing forward to try and get a better view. This made it pretty much impossible for the two of them to get out. Sam began to curse as he continued to search for a way out, knowing when it came down to it he would be forced to cover her eyes and just hold her through this. It would be horrible but there wasn’t all that much he could do.

Olivia simply stared at Vincent from across the crowd. She was close enough to be able to see his face and his eyes as he was placed facing the crowd of angry people. Tears streamed down her face as she forced herself to watch. In her mind she was here for him. Olivia never wanted to leave his side; she hadn’t even wanted to do it in the first place but it was only because he had said he didn’t want her. Their relationship was mixed up but she loved him.

She could feel people pushing and shoving around her and Sam’s hands holding onto her but she just continued to stare at Vincent, hoping and praying that if this was going to happen then it would be over quickly and painlessly for him.

Mr. Finney looked at the crowd, their faces demonic, and so very wonderful. Hate was strong, yes, and so much stronger when the hated was incapable of fighting back. When he could do nothing, but stand there, and take it all in. What a lovely day! The sun was shining, the skye was blue, and neverending. The crowd wanted blood, and they would get it. They would get it. No murderer should be allowed to escape, no matter his reasons for killing, he shouldn't ever be forgiven. Vincent had ruined families, lives, and dreams. Vincent wasn't worthy of life anymore, and Mr. Finney knew it. He even knew that Vincent had realised this long ago, but that was when it had already been too late to stop. At least Vincent had been a decent enough person to see things through to the end. So many wouldn't ever had done that.

He cleared his throat, and then, held his hand out to the crowd. They went silent, little by little, and soon, all their eyes were on him. Things couldn't have been better, not in any way, and with that in mind, he spoke. His voice was strong, and filled the air. There was a static feeling in the crowd, expectation and fear, well mixed together with a little insecurity. He could almost smell theiir every feeling.

"Beloved townspeople, my fellow citizens!" he started, meeting their eyes, knowing they were just as hypnotised by this as he was. "This is the end of an era! Today, will be the end of fear, and the end of lawlessness! Too long have we suffered from the ones living underground, these non-humans, these things that think they are above the law! Too long have we allowed them to steal from us, taking little bits of our lives, more and more, every day! They once settled with takin our money and our food, but they, as the murderous beasts they are could not stop there! This man," Mr. Finney pointed to Vincent, taking a few steps towards him as he talked, "Led them to think that their lives were better than that, and worth more! He lied to his people, an told them that they were as good as our kind, he told them that they too had rights, and that they should fight for these."

He then moved to the other side of the stage, drawing their attention, mesmerizing them. "He trained them, and taught them combat, so that they could sneak up here, in the deep of night, and kill you all in your sleep! We've held them back though, we've protected you, and kept you safe! We kept them at bay, and secured our city. And now, as the final thing in order to make these underground rats go away for good, we have captured their leader, this man! This is Vincent!" He screamed to the crowd, which replied with cheers and shouts, directed at both mr. Finney and Vincent, respectively

"But this is it, my fellow citizens! We will draw a line here, and teach them, that they are below us, and worth nothing more than dust!" He turned to face Vincent, and then yelled, his voice stronger than ever, his presence filling every single bit of free space, making the air thick and almost electric.

"Vincent, the terrorist leader! Any last words?!" He then asked, staring at Vincent who didn't even have the strength to move. He was still breathing, that much was clear, but he might not be for that long if they didn't hurry with the execution. Time is precious, and so is the golden moment in which the enemies dreams are shattered, and you make them realize that everything they did was in vain, and that they shouldn't even have tried in the first place.

Never fight, never fail.

Never dream, but don't wake up either.

Never wish, for it's just a way to slaughter your happiness.

No matter how horrible you think you life is, as long as you live, and have brief moments in which light shines upon you, and you love, as long as there are smiles, and things to remember, it's not so bad. Don't fight for freedom, for a life in captivity isn't that bad at all.

"Don't fight, Vincent." The young man thought as he shut his eyes, and awaited what he feared. It couldn't be long now, and all he had left were his own thoughts. That was all. "Fighting for a better life only means you lose all you ever had. Trying to prove that you have worth only make them look more down on you. If only... If only... Fuck. No more. This is it, I'm done. I won't even get a last line in the play, the story will end with me having no famous last words. Oh well... Wouldn't want to know what to say anyway. Maybe... 'I did it for freedom!' 'I'm insane, the voices told me to do it!' or... 'I'll miss you, Olivia. Every second I'll spend without you, no matter who the hell I'll be, I won't ever be complete. I love that your flaws match mine so perfectly, I love how beautiful you look in the sunlight, I love the way you laugh at me when we both get drunk and I act like an ass."

He raised his head, and something peculiar caught his eye. A dash of blue, in the middle of the crowd. Eyes, looking up at him from behind the long hair, which she so foolishly had attempted to hide. Her mouth hidden behind her hands, she undoubtedly had raised in fear as she knew that there was nothing to do now. The poor girl, she should've just ran away. He had been stupid to pull her into his plans, and now she would probably suffer some sort of concequence for it. Had he been able to do it, he would've apologosed to her. He would have let her know that he cared about her, he really did. But then his gaze wandered a little farther, and that was when he saw her. Olivia.

She was staring at him, and he returned her stare, not calm, not in uproar. Not at peace, not at war with anyone. It was the feeling she gave him, and it made him want to die. Right there, in that moment, so he wouldn't ever lose it. Never.

Mr. Finney walked up to Vincent, having seen him move. He smiled triumphantly, looking at his opponent. "Any last regrets, any last words to speak?" He asked, now having decided not to drag it out any longer. There was no answer, Vincent just looked out at the crowd, and for some reason, mr. Finney got the thought that he was at peace with himself. He didn't care either way, for this farce had to end now. He took a few steps away, and then looked over to the firing squad. "Ready..."

"Aim..."

"I regret never telling you that you mean everything to me."

"FIRE!"

Seven shots were fired right away, the crowd was completely silent, and there was no noise at all. Vincents eyes had widened at the sudden realisation that he was dying, and then, slowly, seven bright red dots toned forth on his shirt, growing, soon making little rivers of red down over both his chest and stomach. Vincent's expression looked a little more sleepy, and then, he hung his head, and his heart stopped beating.

Suddenly, with no warning, there was an explosion, closely followed by the next, and then the next. Bit by bit, the wall was blown to pieces, little bits of rock and huge clouds of dust soon everywhere. The barrier keeping the outside at bay was broken down, and turned into nothing. No one had much time to react, for then there were gunfire, and then the terrorist freedomfighters poured out from the dark alleys and up from the sewers, armed and ready to kill. Canvas had known this would happen, but she hadn't really thought about how it would happen. She had to get out of the crowd, she had to get away from there!

Sam couldn’t keep the smile from his face the whole time that Mr. Finney spoke. Every single word that he spoke was something he believed in. He believed that the people from the underground were not human that they did not deserve to live in the state that they were in. Sam believed that the people from underground were scum but he did have respect for those who tried to change. People like Olivia. They assimilated and obeyed by the rules.

As Vincent was asked if he had any last words, Sam held his breath. He didn’t want Vincent to screw everything up in those last few seconds of his life. In those last few seconds he could incriminate Olivia, he could mess Olivia up by saying that he loved her or he could set about even more of a rage against those of the underground.

When not a sound was muttered Sam sighed with relief. His hands were still holding onto Olivia as the call was sounded. As the gun shots went off he held onto Olivia tighter. Apart of him wanted to cover her eyes and protect her from the sight but another knew that she had to see this. She had to know that Vincent was gone... he wouldn’t be coming back.
Sam had won.

******
As much as Olivia wanted to hear what Mr. Finney was saying, she just couldn’t focus on him. Her mind and her attention were completely on Vincent. She remembered back to the first time when she had met him. She remembered his face. How he had looked at her and how he had instantly taken it upon himself to protect her from everything that the underground possessed. Over the years he had been so good to her. He had done everything for her. Made sure she was well fed and had enough alcohol to sustain her developing habit. He had been there to listen to her when she had been sad or upset or even there for her when she was happy.

She remembered when they had last celebrated her birthday. They had got completely wasted. It had been stupid and irresponsible but it had been so much fun. Olivia couldn’t remember a time where she had drank that much. They had laughed and smiled and joked and enjoyed each other’s company. Vincent had even got her a cake... well it had been something that had been squished and was probably two months old, but it was the thought that counted. They didn’t eat it... but it had been fun.

Olivia then remembered the day Vincent got shot. She didn’t remember what happened afterwards as her mind chose not to remember. It was too similar to the situation they found themselves in. Olivia did remember how he had looked at her then. How he had cared for her and how he had protected her. He had taken the dangerous role and given her the safe one. He had got shot protecting her and now... and now he was going to die trying to protect and save the people of the underground.

As she looked up at the stage she watched as Vincent looked up. Their eyes met across the distance and she saw the look in his eyes and on his face. He had given up. There was no more fight left inside of him. It was like on some level he was at peace with what was about to happen. This scared her. Olivia wanted to see him fight. She wanted him to try and save himself.

Yet he did nothing.

He just looked directly back at her. Even when he was given the chance to speak he didn’t. Olivia wanted to scream... she wanted to cry... she wanted to let out all the emotions that were bottled up inside of her. Yet she couldn’t.

She did nothing.

Olivia stood there and watched as Mr. Finney spoke to the guards. Half of her didn’t want to believe that it was happening. Another part of her was very quickly coming to terms with it. As Mr. Finney’s screamed out FIRE! Olivia went to close her eyes but she wasn’t quick enough. She flinched with every single bullet that entered Vincent’s body. She watched with wide eyes as his body went still... too still.

She saw the life of the one she loved leave his body.

She saw him die.
Her body was going into shock. Olivia was trembling and the colour had drained from her face but there wasn’t any time for her to completely process what was happening. Vincent’s heart had only stopped beating for a second before there was the sound of explosions and suddenly there were people with guns surrounding the crowd.

Sam was quick to react. He held onto Olivia and began to drag her through the group of people. He didn’t know what was going on but he knew that this wouldn’t end well. They needed to get out of this crowd and indoors. Where there were guns there was trouble. It was only a matter of seconds before one side would start firing and he didn’t want himself or Olivia anywhere near here.

Olivia simply let herself be dragged along by Sam, her eyes having been torn away from Vincent’s dead body. Instead her eyes went to the wall which had surrounded the city. It was gone. In her mind she knew somehow that Vincent had been behind this... somehow he had achieved his goal. The wall he had hated so much was gone. He just wasn’t around to see it.

“Olivia we have to move. Now!” Sam yelled at her as she was snapped out of it. Suddenly things became very real. Looking around she saw that most of the crowd was in shock. They didn’t make a move to do anything. The people from above ground were helpless. They relied on the army and had no idea how to defend themselves. They were like sheep ready for the slaughter.

She began to move on her own as the two of them pushed their way through the crowd. Sam barged his way through, letting Olivia follow as he used his weight and size to his advantage as the two of them reached the far side and quickly got out of the crowd. The two of them began running.

They ran through the back alley ways away from the crowd as the sound of shots being fired filled the air. Neither of them looked back to see who had fired first. In a sense it didn’t matter. All that would matter would be who were the ones left standing.

What was happening? Why were they doing this? Why did they show up now, why didn't they do as he had thought they would? Why didn't they act according to statistics, and finally, why weren't they like the lab rats Mr. Finney had thought them to be? Now he stood there, next to the dead Vincent, and looked out at the crowd which had been surrounded by terrorists. How could this have happened? They were supposed to be scared, their morals were supposed to have hit the bottom now that their leader was gone, but there they were. He saw their faces, and for the first time, they didn't look like animals to him. There was something new in their eyes, there was something he hadn't seen before. He knew now that they felt, for what he saw, painted in their faces, the ominous air around them and the determination they held their weapons with was hatred. Pure, untainted and completely honest hate. He had never seen an army like this before, and strangely, he wasn't scared. He was fascinated.

It was odd how he couldn't get his eyes from them, but still he knew that they posed a threat. A very serious one, for as he already knew, he had only half of his original army left, and it didn't look like it was enough. So he smiled sheepishly, and decided. There couldn't be a peaceful solution to this, and there had never been. The wall was gone, and something had sparked the most true emotions in each and every citizen of the town. Hate and fear. The roar of the crowd had died out, and now they were nothing but fools, who had been silly enough to think that they had ever been safe.

"Shoot to kill!" He then ordered his soldiers. He screamed the order to every single of his units in sight, and they didn't hesitate before raising their guns, and taking aim. It was just unlucky that the terrorists were doing exactly the same, and that they even were a few seconds ahead. Maybe it was only fragments of a second, and really it didn't matter, for then the first shot was fired, and the crowd came alive.

Someone screamed, it was a woman. Then the sound of children crying reached his ears, and then as he looked at the carnage before him, seeing the most cruel of all acts being carried out, right in front of him, and on his order, the man with no feelings felt exactly nothing. This was the slaughter of innocents, and he didn't care at all. He had no one to care about, and he had never had that, and there was no reason to change that now.

The noises resounded throughout his mind, and if anything, it reminded him of one of those old black and white war films his dad had used to watch. Right up until the day where he had been pulled out of his home, and shot. The one who executed his dad probably also been ordered to shoot to kill, so if anything, Mr. Finney would blame childhood traumas for this.

That was if anyone would be left to blame him.

The war being fought in front of him didn't reveal who had the upper hand. The more seconds that passed, the greater the number of people falling to the ground, either completely still, clutching at wounds and screaming in pain, or trying to save a loved one who had fallen increased. Perhaps this was the time to get away before exposing oneself to any more of this mindless battle. The air was already thick with the stench of blood, and he begun feeling a little nauseous because of it.

Then he noticed something strange. There was a girl, a teenager, really only a child, on her way in his direction. Her clothes looked worn and were too big for her, over her head she had pulled a black hat, trying to conceal what was a tell tale sign of her origin. Blue hair. Not only was fake hair illegal, unless there was a medical condition for the lack of real hair, but something in such a colour was outrageous. She couldn't be from anywhere but the sewers. He watched her as she made her way, one step at a time, and how she flinched every time a shot was fired, and when she even ducked in fear. He couldn't help but to smile as he saw her trip and fall, her foot having gotten caught in the clothing of a corpse. The corpse of a mother. The look on the girls face as she looked back to find out what it was that caused her fall amused him, for there was no doubt that she had looked into the eyes of the little boy who sat next to the woman, begging her to move and wake up.

When the blue haired girl looked back towards Mr. Finney, he saw that the blood that had splattered across her face when she fell had been partially washed away by tears. This was captivating, how could this be? He saw her clutch her way forward, and then get to her feet again, as she cried, and screamed, and then finally she reached the stage. Now when she was so close to him, he could make out the details of her face, and see that she was actually a pretty girl, and at once he thought that if she had been normal, she could've been accepted into the school, and she would've had friends, a boyfriend, she'd have gotten good grades, and had a wonderful family. But she just had to be different. she just had to.

That he thought as he saw her crawl onto the stage. She had to try a few times before getting a proper hold of the wood so she could pull herself up, but when she had done that, and now was on the same level as him, she didn't even pay him the slightest attention. He had halfway expected her to try and kill him, but instead of moving towards him, she crawled over to Vincent, where she hesitantly touched his legs. Mr. Finney could see how she looked up, a glimmer of hope in her eyes, and he could see how the hope was brutally murdered, slaughtered, and bashed as she saw Vincent's face. The way she just stared, and then the way in which she buried her face in the folds of his clothes, sobbing like it was the end of the world, made him wonder. This wasn't just some other terrorist, she had known him. The way she screamed, trying to convey the agony her thoughts were putting her through, was spectacular.

He stared at her, and then, after a few minutes, when he thought that she couldn't possibly cry more, he took a single step closer to her. She didn't notice him, and just continued crying. Dared he really? He took another step towards her, and then one more. She didn't react to him whatsoever, and then he raised his hand to wave over a soldier so she too could be executed. Then, as he looked around, he realised that there were none who could come to his aid. They were all either fighting, dying or killing. Then what should he do?

Before he could think any more about it, He felt a sharp burning pain on the inside of both his thighs. He fell, and at once he knew that the warmth he could feel was a bad sign. His body hit the wood with a loud boom, and no more than a few seconds passed before he saw her face over his. He could also now feel the weight of her sitting on his stomach, and now he realised how stupid he had been to approach her. Her face was still covered in the mix of blood and tears, and the look in her eyes was the same as that which he had seen in the eyes of the other of her kind. She bared her teeth in a joyless smile, and above her head, she had raised the knife she had used to cut his legs. He couldn't see it clearly, but that didn't matter. Her words caught him completely off guard, and as soon as she had spoken, she stabbed the knife into his chest over and over again.

"THIS IS A GREAT DAY FOR FREEDOM!!" She screamed, her voice so clear and almost angelic. It didn't matter that he could see every scar on her face and soul, for as she killed him, she turned into an angel.

---

As she stared at him, hating him with every inch of her soul, she felt strangely relieved. She was breathing heavily, and had never feared like this before, but she knew she had done a good thing. She knew it. Then, slowly, she crawled off of the man who had given the others the order to kill Vincent. The odd sense of hollow that filled her, as well as the thought that she needed to escape was all she felt, and like that, she looked at Vincent's corpse again. Tears welled up in her eyes once more, and she just wanted to sit there and cry.

She just wasn't given the chance.

Suddenly, the sound of one shot pierced the noises for her. Everything faded, and then she heard her own heartbeat. It was loud and clear in her ears, and oddly comforting. It felt like the world was a rug being pulled away from under her feet, and that something had blocked her throat so that she couldn't breathe. It was strange, this wasn't like she had thought it would be, it was far from. Was this what Vincent had experienced too? Was it this feeling that nothing really mattered anyway, and that it didn't hurt as much as one would think? Was it these memories of voices and smiles, of jokes. The sunshine, the faraway sounds of an ocean, dreams of the rest of the world. Was this what he had felt?

Was it this feeling of wings?

She fell to her knees, and almost as if she was a puppet on strings, she turned her face to the sky, and saw the most magnificent blue. "The sky reflects the ocean, and the ocean reflects the sky. This is okay. Death isn't so bad... It's not that bad." Then two more tears trickled down her cheeks, and a smile broke forth on her face. She closed her eyes, and then fell to one side.

---

Clarence fought with all he had, side by side with the others from down below the city. His head was silent but filled with thoughts and memories, and perhaps what filled the most was his thoughts of what the rest of the world had in store for him. The wall had been broken down, it had been fragile and so little had been enough to break it down. Now, all he needed was to make it outside of the city, and see the world.

So he fought the soldiers and everyone who got in his way. And it looked like they were getting the upper hand. It actually looked like they were winning.

So, for the memories of his girl, his beloved who had ended her own life, Vincent who had sacrificed, and all who had died there that day, and for those who still were to die. He fought for them all.

Dear Reader…

After that day my life was never the same again.

They say that loosing the one you love stays with you forever and they were right. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of Vincent. I wonder what he would do if it was him or remember funny little comment’s that he would have said. Over the years that we practically lived together he became apart of me. As much as I tried not to admit it at the time, I depended on him. He influenced me and shaped me into the person that I am today.

There has been more than one occasion where I have been told to show I.D or my photo card, or even been stopped in the street for a random bag inspection and thought of what Vincent would say. He would have gone off on some rant about personal property and the right to be able to walk down the street without being harassed by the authorities. It was occasions like this that made me smile as I would remember how passionate he had been about saving society.

I also remember him every time I see wall.

It is the constant reminder of what he believed in and who he was.

You see despite Vincent’s and the other from the undergrounds attempts to free society from the wall and from the separation in which the government enforced, it didn’t work. Many people, including Vincent, died for nothing that day. There were no changes. Mr. Finney won.

I would like to tell you that against all odds the terrorists were able to overthrow the government and peace and happiness were restored to all but it just didn’t work out that way. Things went back to the way they had been and it didn’t take long before the wall was back up. There were however a few changes.

The first was that the government gassed the underground. They killed them all. Mr. Finney didn’t want there to ever be an uprising again and the people were behind him. Fear had spread throughout the people after all the bloodshed and this worked in his favour. At times I used to think that if Vincent was still alive then they could have put their faith in him… but he wasn’t and Mr. Finney had made sure of that.

The next thing that happened was that security became a lot tougher. There were lots of random inspections of houses and people were accused of being associated with the dead terrorists. It was a dark time and people lived in fear. If one thought that the people had no rights before Vincent’s death, then they would have been shocked to see the reduction in rights afterwards.

My life also changed.

For what seemed like months I slipped into a depression. Sam did all he could to try and make it go away and to comfort me but it wasn’t him I wanted. I wanted Vincent. Sam protected me though and kept me out of the public eye as much as possible so that Mr. Finney wouldn’t see me. I drank so much during those few months, trying to block everything out. It was also my own way of rebelling against what had happened. In no way was it anything like what Vincent did, but it was dark times.

Sam seemed to thrive though. He became one of the leading officials in the aftermath since a lot of the government officials had been lost during the terrorist attacks. He had to work hard but eventually he regained the trust that had been lost in him by Mr. Finney.

I have only seen Mr. Finney once or twice since that day, both times in passing. Despite his close connections to Sam, I wasn’t stupid enough to go anywhere near him. His promise still rang clear in my ears. Also I couldn’t look at him without seeing Vincent’s mangled bloody body.

It took me a few months of almost drinking myself unconscious every night to realise that Vincent wouldn’t want me to live like this. Sure, he would want me to grieve and drink and rebel for a little bit but after that he would want me to enjoy life. Life was precious, in whatever form it came and I needed to cherish it while I still had it. So many people had lost their lives and I wasn’t about to throw it back in their faces and make mine useless. I was going to live.

So that was what I did.

Two months after I decided to become a person again and stop living as a drunken mess Sam asked me to marry him. Without Vincent clouding my judgement I said yes and we were married six months later. It was a small service but no expense was spared. It was almost something out of a fairy tale. I did love Sam… just not as much as Vincent. Sam made me happy and there wasn’t much more I could ask for in a world like ours.

Over the following years we had three children. Isabella, Harrison and Vincent. They were good, beautiful children. There was always a hole in my heart left by both Vincent and the baby I lost but the three of them, along with Sam slowly began to fix it. My life… well it wasn’t too bad. There were no beaches or freedom but I did experience love and security. On some levels it might have been giving in but I had always known right from the start that I wasn’t as courageous as Vincent. When it came down to it I was more likely to give in to authority than to really go against it.

It has been twenty years since the day that Vincent died and I know that it will still haunt me for at least another twenty years. It was the day that I lost my best friend and the man I loved.

This has been the story of Vincent’s struggle… our struggle to find not only each other but a better world. Neither of these things has been found yet but I still hold out hope. Maybe some day there will be someone like Vincent, someone who will rise up against the odds and take on the authority which opposes those who are different.

Maybe some day I will be reunited with Vincent.

Maybe some day we will finally be able to be together… it just won’t be in this life.