Alone Behind the Glass

Lucas rolled to his side, hurling bloody vomit as he did. He had never remembered being hit so hard before; the entirety of his body ached as if he had been dragged across the earth for hundreds of miles. He painfully lifted himself to his knees and opened his eyes. The room he was in was filled with harsh, white light, all around him, engulfing him. The floor beneath him was coarse like sandpaper, grey and cold. A large metal door stood in the wall in front of him, locking him in, Lucas slowly got to his feet, his joints cracking beneath him. He deserved the beating the guards gave him, even if his punishment was far worse than those of others.

 Stealing was what the crime had been. He had only stolen a loaf of bread. He had stolen it from the market square, for him and his sister. But they did not care. All crimes, no matter how small, were punishable by death. There were many days where friends and family members mysteriously disappeared, never to be heard from again. But it was no real mystery. Everyone knew what had happened to them, and knew that their own time for death grew nearer with every passing day. Everyone committed a crime at some point, no matter the risk, no matter the reward, and everyone would pay. And it just so happened that that day, it was Lucas’s time to pay.

Lucas stumbled to the metal door in front of him. He knew it would be locked, but he had to try. He tested the handle, but as he had expected, the handle didn’t budge. Lucas turned his back to the door, resting on its cold frame, resting his eyes. He rested there for a moment, contemplating his situation. He knew he would die. His death would come soon and swiftly. Part of him did not fear it. It was actually freeing to know an end was near. To know when it was coming, not to leave it unknown. His life had been difficult, almost crushingly so, he and his sister caring for each other, all alone. While he did not long for his death, he did not long for his life either. He was tired. But Lucas knew he could not leave his sister, alone in this harsh world. He could not leave her. He would not accept death so easily.

As he opened his eyes once more, Lucas’s blood ran cold, and he fell to the ground as his knees gave in. In his weariness, he had completely overlooked the wall that had stood behind him. But he could not miss it now. The wall in front of him was one of clear glass, and behind the glass wall was a cell like Lucas’s. And in the middle of this cell, lying so innocent, was his sister.

Lucas banged his fists against the glass, but she could not hear him. Annabelle! Annabelle! he cried out, but to no avail. His capture had been bearable when he had believed his sister was still free, but now, seeing her here, alone in the cell, he knew they were both doomed. He had to wake her. But he did not know how.

His fists were bloodied before she finally arose from her slumber. She rose her head and looked around with bewilderment, until finally her eyes locked with Lucas’s. Lucas noticed that the guards had spared her the beating in which they had dealt Lucas. That gave him a little comfort. She got to her feet and rushed to him, stopping at the glass wall right in front of him. He could see the terror in her eyes; she knew as well as he what this meant, for the both of them. She raised her hand against the glass. Lucas pressed his own against hers.

As Lucas looked at his sister, he could not help but see his mother. Annabelle was the mirror of their mother. And Lucas was the mirror of their father, even though he was much harder to remember. Annabelle had long, curly red hair, like that of a cherry, with piercing green eyes, that were quick and saw all. Lucas was light blonde, hair bleached by the sun, with shock blue eyes. They were very different, but nobody questioned their relation. They were one in the same.   

Lucas tried to speak to his sister, but the glass between them was too thick. And, truthfully, there was little to be said. But that did not matter. Just being close to her, even though separated by a sheet of glass, was enough. Lucas slid to the ground and rested his head against the glass. Annabelle did the same. And they waited.

They had sat like this many times throughout their childhood, he and Annabelle had. Curled up close to one another, trying to stay warm in the night. After their mother died, which was only a handful of years after their father had died, Lucas and Annabelle had been left without a home. Money, shelter, and food were tight for everyone in village, except for those at the top, so no one had the means to take them in. So, Lucas and Annabelle had to be content with each other. And they were. It was a tiring life, an exhausting life, but with each other it was bearable. Even now, Lucas realized, he would rather have Annabelle with him in this cell, even if it meant they would both die, than having one of them stuck and alone out in the streets. A death with Annabelle was worth a lifetime of loneliness for Lucas.

He heard it first, before he saw it. He heard the sound of footsteps outside his cell, and then the rustle of chains and the clicking of locks. Annabelle heard it, too, coming from the outside of her own cell. Annabelle looked again to Lucas with fear in her eyes, and Lucas peered back into Annabelle’s. He tried to hide his fear, to mask it with a brave face, but he knew Annabelle could see through him. The time had come. Lucas watched as Annabelle’s cell door swung open, a cloaked guard stepping through. That is when it became real for Lucas. He had known it would come, their judgement, their fate, but it had come sooner than he had hoped. As he watched the guard in Annabelle’s cell, he heard his own cell door swing open.

It was not the fear of what was coming that brought Lucas terror, it was that he would be alone when it happened, no one to hold him in their arms. And as he caught glimpses of his sister desperately trying to escape the guard, he knew she feared the same. He tried to escape the guard that lumbered toward him, but he the guard was strong, and Lucas was weak. The guard, cloaked in black, shoved Lucas to the ground. Lucas lied right next to the glass wall, and as he turned to glimpse his sister, he banged the glass wall one last time.

“Don’t leave me, Annabelle!” he screamed, hot tears flooding his eyes and streaming down his cheeks. But she could not hear him. Lucas watched as the guard grabbed hold of Annabelle in his brute arms, and removed a dagger from his belt. Annabelle screamed something through her wails, but the glass absorbed it all. Lucas could only watch as the guard sunk the dagger into Annabelle’s chest, the life fade from her eyes, her body twitch in shock, and then go limp. Lifeless. Lucas screamed with anguish as the guard let Annabelle’s body crash to the ground, landing right in front of him. Her green eyes remained open, staring distantly, past Lucas, into somewhere else. Lucas held his hand against the glass, longing to touch her one last time. It was only the sound of footsteps that drew his attention from his sister. The guard stood over him, dagger in hand.

“Why?” Lucas cried to the guard. “Why?!” Lucas screamed. But the guard didn’t answer, and Lucas knew he wouldn’t. They did it to punish, that was the only reason Lucas could find. To see the death of someone you love, right in front of you, unable to stop it, unable to say goodbye, is the ultimate punishment. The ultimate suffering. Lucas didn’t bother to look at the guard when the dagger came down, he simply peered into the piercing, lifeless green eyes of his sister, remembering times when they were together. And Lucas died alone.