HOW HE SAID HIS LAST PRAYERS: AN ORIGINAL SHORT STORY

in #adsactly7 years ago (edited)

THIS WAS FIRST PUBLISHER BY https://steemit.com/culture/@gandhibaba/his-last-prayers-an-original-short-story.

The hangman, a towering young man with bushy beards, was ready for the execution. He carried a stern face, as expected, and was waiting for orders from his boss before he pulled the fragile platform on which Kunle stood. Kunle had a noose worn around his neck like a golden necklace, his hands cuffed behind his back. He had been sentenced to death by hanging and had been, I was told, on the execution's list for the past ten months. I had come, in my custom, to the premises of the Robben prisons to bless the souls of the condemned before they are executed.

"Young man," said I, addressing Kunle, "do you have anything to say before you draw your last breathe?"

"Yes, Father." Kunle looked at me, "I would like to say my last prayers."

His Last Prayers: An Original Short Story by @gandhibaba
gandhibaba (53) in culture • 12 hours ago
images (2)_crop_1000x1000.png
Image Source

The hangman, a towering young man with bushy beards, was ready for the execution. He carried a stern face, as expected, and was waiting for orders from his boss before he pulled the fragile platform on which Kunle stood. Kunle had a noose worn around his neck like a golden necklace, his hands cuffed behind his back. He had been sentenced to death by hanging and had been, I was told, on the execution's list for the past ten months. I had come, in my custom, to the premises of the Robben prisons to bless the souls of the condemned before they are executed.

"Young man," said I, addressing Kunle, "do you have anything to say before you draw your last breathe?"

"Yes, Father." Kunle looked at me, "I would like to say my last prayers."

"Go on, son." I looked into Kunle's eyes and saw a pool of tears trapped within it.

"Dear, God forgive me."
Kunle began. > "Pardon my iniquities, for I have sinned against you. I, who does not have the courage to kill a chicken, have killed a man. I have killed for love. I didn't turn the other cheek to be slapped when I was provoked. I struck. I took his life. Forgive me Lord."

Kunle's whispered his words, tears flowing freely from his darting eyes. I held my rosary tighter and listened raptly to his prayers. God would be impressed at my attentiveness.

"Dear God, it was not my intention to have blood on my hands but my emotions overpowered me. On the Monday of October 23rd 2000, I received a letter, to the effect that my appointment was terminated, when I resumed at work. My official car was immediately retrieved and I was told to leave the company's premises. I went to the Managing Director's office but his protocol would not allow me have his audience. So I decided to go back home.

"On my way home, several disturbing thoughts run through my mind. I wondered how I would cater for the needs of my three kids with my wife, Ann, whom I loved quite passionately. I felt like I was dreaming and hoped I would wake up from the daydream. Or, perhaps, a miracle would happen. Or, perhaps, my boss would call me on phone and say the termination letter was a plank.

"I arrived the gate of my house at high noon, while my kids were still away at school. There was a strange Toyota Corolla parked in my compound. I walked towards the car and noticed that it carried a bold sticker with the inscription, "ACCEPT YOUR FATE". Fate? What fate? The fate of being dismissed from work for no reason?

"I assumed Ann had received a friend in her usual fashion and walked towards my sitting room, where I expected to see Ann and her friend. But, I find the sitting room empty. While I contemplated where Ann and her presumed friend would be at such time of the day, my eyes fell on a bottle of vodka which was stood on the floor, half empty. When did Ann start drinking alcohol? I asked myself. I grabbed the bottle, becoming curious.

"Afterwards, I tiptoed on the stairs towards my bedroom. Once there, I flung the door opened..." Kunle stammered uncontrollably, shaking his head but the noose sat confidently on his neck like a bird in a nest.

"Go on, son, the Lord hears your last prayers" said I, rolling my rosary, my bible trapped between my armpit.

Kunle continued, "I flung the door open and received the greatest shock of my life. A few yards away, on my sprawling bed, was my naked wife beneath the galloping thrust of a strange man, the man whose car beared the enigmatic sticker, ACCEPT YOUR FATE. The fate of losing my job or the fate of having my wife beneath another man?

Seeing me, the man jumped down my naked wife and scampered like a toad towards the door. At once, I smashed the bottle of vodka in my hands and reached for the throat of the beast. I stabbed him in the neck as many times as I could until I made a basket from which blood escaped like a tap. I sent the beast to hell that afternoon.

"Dear God, I pray that you accept my wretched soul and grant me a seat, or even a mat, at thy right hand. I pray also that you watch over my wife Ann, whom I have forgiven, and my wonderful kids, Abigail, Abel, and Abraham. Hear my last prayers O God."

"May the Lord bless your soul, son, and grant you Paradise." Said I. And before I could make the sign of the cross over Kunle's face, the impatient hangman had, without receiving orders, pulled the platform on which Kunle stood, leaving his hefty body to kick and dangle hopelessly in the air. I walked away, to the next man awaiting the hangman.

The End

DQmWpisRXDF56mV3DgzzPUxb3R2ozseR48YVr2YKtwtrBcV.gif

Sort:  

Hi! I am a robot. I just upvoted you! I found similar content that readers might be interested in:
https://steemit.com/culture/@gandhibaba/his-last-prayers-an-original-short-story