The Final Surrender

He collapsed, marveling at paradise. 

He stripped off his disguise until he was down to his boxers. He didn't care where each item of clothing landed; he did not need it anymore. His uncanny disguise, along with his entire life savings and the few friends he still had, had brought him to his destination.

He laid down flat on the warm sand, his hands lightly grabbing the grains and letting them fall through his fingers. His eyes were closed and his legs were spread apart; he was the personification of pure bliss. He listened to the crashing waves, to the seagulls overhead, to the gushing wind, and basked in the strong sun. He couldn't care less for the effects of the UV rays; he would not live long enough to deal with its consequences. 

Abruptly, flashbacks invaded his mind. He could hear blaring sirens, flashes of red followed by pitch black, booming voices over megaphones. He slapped himself and shook the memories away; there was no need for such negativity today. 

A seagull landed close to him and slowly edged its way closer, curious at this still creature wearing nothing but boxers. He could hear families enjoying each other's company nearby, and another flashback hit. This time he bolted upright and buried his hands in his face, stifling a frustrated scream. He had come here to enjoy his last few moments on earth, not to be tortured by his past.  

Yet, the images tortured him anyway. He remembered the unbearable tightness of his chest as he ran as fast as his legs could take him, feeling like he was going to die, but running anyway. He remembered tears filling his eyes as he saw his getaway truck waiting for him and he plunged into the back, quickly covering himself with a tarp. The truck barreled down the deserted road the moment the driver heard the thud. He crouched into a tiny ball, fighting for breath in the darkness, afraid of dying before he reached his destination. 

He shook his head and blinked away the trauma, then stood up and walked into the ocean, slowly submerging himself, ecstatic at the cold water against his hot, flaky skin. He dipped his head under water for a second, then shot up through the surface, flicking his shaggy hair back, water dripping out of his mangled beard. Beneath his feet he could feel the algae on the rocks – then another flashback tore through his mind and he yelled in rage. The families that were once ignoring him now stared at him, fathers pulling their children away from this strange lone man. 

This flashback took him back eleven years. He was only twenty-one years old, bursting with excitement about life, eager to travel the world, to grasp at success, to find love, to give love. After eleven years he still sometimes bursts into a fit of laughter at how radically his life had changed in a matter of hours. One moment he held his dear brother in a loving embrace, and the next he was being shoved into a car against his will with orders being barked at him, disoriented, still trying to fathom what was going on around him. 

He propelled himself back to reality. He walked towards the shore and plopped down with his legs submerged in water. The waves crashed into his chest and then swept back out, calming his manic mind. This was where he needed to be on his final day on earth. This specific beach, through which he and his brother ran when they were boys, shrieking in glee. Where his darling mother watched them from afar, casually reminding them to be careful every few minutes. The location of their family's one vacation together, for one was all they could afford, was always meant to be his final resting spot. 

He remembered his brother's final resting spot. As if the body lay before him at that moment, he could see his brother on their living room floor, lying in a pool of blood. He could see the gun in his own hand. He could hear his mother shrieking in horror, yelling over the phone for someone to send help. She withdrew away from her son, not recognizing this murderous villain, desperate for protection against the being that was once a part of her very own body. He remembered the events of eleven years ago as if it were yesterday. 

The time between that day and this one was a blur of agony. His life was not a life anymore; he was simply waiting for death. Why wait? Why not walk into it? He gazed out at the ocean, thanking any supreme being that may or may not exist for getting him to this finish line. He had not felt peace in eleven years, until this very day. He thanked the supreme being for not allowing him to die in the concrete box he called home for eleven years. 

His bliss ebbed away with the ocean as he heard police sirens in the distance. He stood, and slowly walked toward the promenade. The sirens got closer, and a smile spread across his face; this was it – this was the end. The cars sped through the promenade, voices blaring for pedestrians to get out of the way. Four officers emerged from two cars, guns outstretched, edging their way towards their located target. 

He had just one more flashback, but he did not fight this one. It was the one question he replayed over and over in his mind, remembering every detail of his mother's desperate voice and pleading face. 

"Why did you do it?”  

“I don't know, Mother. He was pointing the gun at me first, you know.” 

“So you say, but you didn't need to do this. He wouldn't have really shot you.” 

"Sometimes I wish that he did.” 

No one believed that it was self-defense. A mixture of his mother not witnessing what happened, with the fact that the gun was registered in his name, with his brother's squeaky-clean record, did not bode well for him during his trial. He did not fight the charges. He deserved every moment of his punishment; he took the life that he cared about the most. He deserved what lay before him. 

"Just put your hands up, stop right there.” 

He walked towards the officers, arms at his side. 

“I said stop right there!” 

He continued walking, staring them right in the faces. 

“If you take one more step, we're going to shoot.” 

He silently walked three steps onwards before the men opened fire. He dropped to the ground, his smile still planted onto his face. He broke his silence once more, with one simple word.

"Freedom.”