The Rock Ballad of Prisoner #1456396

by GTBBrony

Rating: teen
Tags: Tragedy, Human, Sad
Length: 2830

As an attempt at writing a ballad, we follow the life of a convict who is being sent to his death

An attempt at writing a classic rock ballad, we follow the life of a convicted murderer as he is sent to the death chamber to pay the ultimate price for his crimes. But, no matter what someone has done in their past life, sometimes, all it takes to achieve true happiness is to have someone to care for, to hold, to protect, and to die for. And does this happiness extend to the afterlife? This is a three part act, and while it is short little experiment of mine to get me back into writing, please take your valuable time to read it and give me feedback. It is far from being completed, and I relish the chance to hear your comments. Have it it!

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-06-17 09:46:33 UTC

Act One: Bohemian Rhapsody ft. Tyrone Carter

I do not own any part of Hasbro, Or the song Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen. Now, let the Ballad of Prisoner #1456396 begin!

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Clink… Clink… Clink…

These steel chains that not only bound my hands and my feet, ultimately bound my life. Death Row, my home for the last ten years, slowly passed me by with each step. And with each and every step, the cells filled with jeers from my fellow in-mates. Today is the day, I silently recanted to myself. All my appeals had been used, I had eaten my final meal, I’d said my final goodbyes to my loving family, and now, I’m being led into the death chamber. In all these years, I’ve never once thought about the life I took. He was a bastard, and most would have agreed that he deserved what he had coming to him. But, should I have played the role of judge, the jury, and the executioner? Whether or not I believed I had any right to play these roles, the courts decided that it wasn’t for me to decide his fate.  And now my judge, my jury, and my executioner have all decided my fate, and that decision was to end this wretched man’s life. While slowly walking down the corridor with these god damn shackles around my feet, I caught myself humming a song I’ve grown to hold deeply over the past ten years here. I know that the guards must think I’ve gone insane, and maybe I have, but I thought it was perfect for the occasion. Eh, why not go ahead and sing it, it’s not like I’m going to care what these people think in the next few minutes anyways. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jHbCE53s9hQ)

“Is this the real life?

Is this just fantasy?”

This just seems so surreal, it’s like… I can’t comprehend what’s about to happen to me.

“Caught in a landslide,

No escape from reality.”

I know I’m about to die, I’ve been told countless times, but what’s with this apathetic attitude of mine?

“I open my eyes,

Look to the ground to see...”

I’m walking death row,

All these guards watching me.

I sang, a little too overjoyed at my ad-libbing.

“Because I'm easy come, easy go,

Little high, little low,”

Come on now guards, don’t give me that look. It’s a beautiful song

“Any way the wind blows doesn't really matter to me, to me.”

Hmm, if I remember correctly, this is where it starts getting personal.

“Mama, I just killed a man.

Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger now he's dea—”

That was all I was able to sing before the guard clubbed me in the side. They can’t stop me from humming though.

“Mama... life had just begun,

But now I've gone and thrown it all away.”

Looks like I won’t be seeing your grave one last time like I planned, Mom. Sorry about that.

“Mamaaaaa —oooh, didn't mean to make you cry,

If I'm not back again this time tomorrow,

Carry on, carry on as if nothing really matters.”

I know you didn’t want to see me so soon, but I’ll make sure to fully apologize to you. And to that bastard if I happen to check in at Hell. I know that’s what you’d want. Sorry I’m leaving so soon Dad, I heard you found another wife, I’m really glad. And Jenny, I don’t blame you for what happened. Please don’t be saddened…

“Too late, my time has come,

Sends shivers down my spine, body's aching all the time.

Goodbye, everybody, I've got to go,

Got to leave you all behind and face the truth.”

It may have been your testimony that put me here, but please, don’t shed me a single tear.

“Mamaaaaa oooh,

I don't want to die,

sometimes wish I'd never been born at all”

Just then, I felt a moist sensation that slowly cooled itself as it made its way down my face. I suddenly realized, I was crying, a lot. Small droplets of an aqueous solution containing salt and other bodily waste products  that represented intense feelings of emotions were cascading down my face, and ultimately ended their journey onto the cold hard concrete.  Utterly banned in prison, and punishable by, well, I’d rather not say, what I will say though that crying was definitely not allowed. The only people who get to cry in prison are the punks, a.k.a the broke-in bitches, and I don’t cry. Tyrone ain’t no-one’s bitch. Still, I was crying, much to the delight of the other inmates. Can’t say I could blame them, I’ve seen many others cry on their way to the chamber. And I took delight in it all the same. Knowing the court had sentenced me to die without much say on my part, I felt small, almost… insignificant.

“I see a little silhouetto of a man,

Scaramouche! Scaramouche! Will you do the

Fandango?!

“Thunderbolt and lightning, very, very frightening me!

Galileo, Galileo

Galileo, Galileo

Galileo, Figaro. Magnific-o-o-o”

“I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me.

He's just a poor boy from a poor family,

Spare him his life from this monstrosity!”

Easy come, easy go, will you let me go

The guard to my left looked inquisitively towards me, quietly murmuring.

“Bismilah. No, we will not let you go.”

Following his initiative, and trying to one-up him, I began to sing a bit louder.

“Let him go!”

He retorted.

“Bismilah! We will not let you go.”

To which, I had my reply.

“Let him go!”

“Bismilah! We will not let you go.”

I began to sing me animatedly.

“Let me go!”

“Will not let you go.”

“Let me go!”

This time the right one wanted to join in as well, creating a great harmony between the two.

“Never let you go!”

“Let me go!”

And together we sang,

“Ah No, no, no, no, no, no, no”

Oh mama mia,

mama mia,

mama mia, let me go.”

The rest, sadly, was a solo. I’m glad they picked up on that as well.

“Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me.

For me.

For me!”

Humming the kick-ass guitar solo, a thought came across my mind. Who knew guards were allowed to have a bit of fun while on the job? Ten years of living here, and I had just assumed, like everyone else, that they were hired thugs sent here to keep us bad people in line.

“So you guards think you can stone me and spit in my eye?!

“So you think you can love me, Jen, and leave me to die?!”

“Oh, baby. Can't do this to me, baby.”

Suddenly, I turned my head to look at the guard to my left. Seeing his expression as he knew what line was coming next, he tightened his grip on me.

“Just gotta’ get out, just gotta’ get right outta he-re!”

After seeing that I had no plans to escape, he loosened his grip on me. Acting oblivious to what had previously conspired; I still hummed the guitar solo. Man, I always loved playing this part of the song back home, especially in front Jen. Playing the guitar in front of an audience was exhilarating, but nothing could compare to making my Jen smile. I wonder what lefty and righty here will do with their families when they get home after watching the soon-to-be execution. I hope they hug them… for all their worth.

“Nothing really matters, anyone can see…

Nothing really matters,

Nothing really matters to me...”

Finally, we arrive at the heavily plated to the Death Chamber. All of the dread seemed to double upon me, and my feet stopped dead in their tracks. Slowly letting loose a sigh, I look towards the guards.

Anyway the wind blows...

“I never thought guards were the type to play nice with the prisoners.”

It took them a while to answer, each casting the other one a quick glance. Finally, the more verbose Lefty spoke up. “We usually don’t, but you happened to sing one of our favorite songs. Never thought a prisoner would sing it on the way to the death chamber though. It being ironic and all.”

“Hah, I feel ya. Honestly though, do you two have families at home?”

This time, it was Righty’s turn to talk. “We’re not allowed to disclose personal information, you understand, right?”

“I understand sir, a lot of bad guys here with connections to the outside. I never did catch your names though.”

Lefty spoke, “I’m Roberts, and this is my rookie, Black.”

“Well Roberts, I’m glad you were the first one to club me. Or else you wouldn’t have felt guilty enough to sing with this fucking hardcore inmate.”

Roberts lets loose a slight chuckle. “Looks like today is no ordinary day Black, an inmate thanked us for clubbing him in the back without the slightest hint of retaliation.”

“Sir, we shouldn’t be fraternizing with the inmates. A murderer at that.”

“I read his case son, and he did what any other good boyfriend would do. Too bad for him that he caused the guy’s heart to stop beating with just a few body shots.” Robert sighs. “Too bad he killed the boy of George Mackenroye.”

“The Mayor’s son?”

“Yeah, it must be nice to have that kind of power in this state.”

Still, Black glared at his superior. Urging him to continue this transport.

Roberts sighs, “I know rookie, I know. Alright Tyrone, you ready?”

“I’ve made my peace.  I think we coulda’ been good friends Roberts, maybe in a different life.”

“Maybe…” Roberts replied.

I couldn’t help but watch every movement of Roberts as he stepped stepped forward and knocked on the door. As Black took ahold of me and walked me through the precipice of the room, the bitter air of bleach and other disinfectants immediately began assaulting my sense of smell. I may have worked in healthcare, but I never got used to the smell of Dispatch.

“Guards Black and Roberts reporting in With Prisoner #1456396, Dr. Tyrone Carter. The same Dr. Carter that has been charged, and convicted of, Capital Murder in the first degree. Do you acknowledge that you are this prisoner? ” Roberts not needing to read straight off my execution papers except for my name and number, as If he had done this several times before.

“Yes, Sir.”

The two guards then approached me, and asked me to lie on the table. The nurse then inserted the injection needle, along with a saline drip bag into my arm. Damn it, I forgot to ask for small needles. These needles are fucking huge, I knew I was forgetting something. Once I had been strapped in and the shackles unlocked, the procession continued on.

“Prisoner has eaten his final meal, and has been given his right to be allotted time to make contact with his family before his execution. The execution will begin after his final statement,” Roberts motions to the chaplain. “Chaplain, you may now attend to the prisoner.”

The man I’ve gotten to know in such a recent amount of time came to the foot of the table and held onto me. His name was Charlie, and he had such a great family. A wife and two kids. I had asked him why he volunteer to do this job. Said he was called to it by God, and that I could experience the same feeling that he had. He had so much compassion in his heart, and I knew it hurt him to have to watch me die. I hope it gets easier for him, I really do. Like everything else in life, it really is hard being someone’s first. Who know's, maybe he'll be able to get back to his daughter and be able to play with my former My Little Pony Collection. I really hope she takes a liking to Scootaloo as much as I have during the past two years. If Jen and I had a kid, I would love to have had a little tomboy-ish girl like her. In fact, it was quite... possible. Jen was infamous in her ability to school me in basketball on many family reunion pick-up games. Always proving she was the best she could be, but, didn't she know I loved her no matter what? I hope she does.

“Go ahead son, you may now make your final statement.”

I had thought about it, I even asked Charlie to write it down for me just in case I forgot. Knowing that the mic was one me didn’t help at all.

“I… I can’t remember it.”

“Would you like me to read it for you?”

The only thing I could manage to do was nod my head. I couldn’t utter a single word, it seemed as if everything I planned to say, got caught in my throat. I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t think. All I could think about was how I was blowing my moment, my speech. It was my time to get what I wanted off my soul, to lessen my burden, but I couldn’t get these damn voice cords of mine to work. And Why was I crying again?

“Ok Dr. Carter, I’ve read your statement. Is there anything else you’d like to add?”

Come-ON TYRONE! SAY  SOMETHING!

“Dad… Jen…” I finally mouthed, “I’m… I’m so sorry. And I love you, no matter what. “

“Thank you Guards Roberts and Black, thank you for participating with me. I- It means so much to me.”

I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t feel the cold saline solution flowing through my veins. All I could feel was that damn moistness on my face again. All I could feel was the strain I had put on my vocal cords as I fought through the inflammation of my throat.

“Please, to all the witnesses. If you have friends, family, lovers… hug them. Hug them as soon as you get home. Hug them for as long, and as hard as you can. You’ll never know when they’ll be taken from you. I may not have a family anymore, and I may never have heard the sounds of little Carters running through my house. In fact, I never had a house in the first place. But I wish I did, and I wish I could. But, I gave in to the instant gratification of causing harm to the late Mr. Mackenroye. And if Mr. Mackenroye Senior is present, I wish to say sorry to you as well, and I ask that you forgive me. Momma woulda’ wanted me to ask your forgiveness, and I wholeheartedly agree with her. Although, I do not deserve it for taking your precious son away from you. I do not ask it to ease my spirit, but to ease yours. And please, do not let my death affect you witnesses today, but I know you’ll never be able to follow my advice. I don’t say this in arrogance, but I am constantly reminded of the late Mr. Mackenroye. Most would say that’s because I killed him with my bare hands, but I do not doubt for a second that it wouldn’t have mattered. Death is a horrible thing to see and to deal with, and is almost impossible if it’s a loved one. If someone is listening to my final statement that is contemplating death, I urge…” I pause to sniff back the tears, so that I may finish my statement. “No, I emplore you to not do it. I’ve done a lot of reading and observation about death in the past ten years I’ve been here, and among all the books I read, I found this simple truth.  Those that are alive wish for death and romanticize it, and those that are dead choose to relish their life by remembering it. And as you see before you, I was dead the moment the judge banged that gavel. But, before I depart this world, there a little lesson I would like to give to you. Sometimes, there are great things in this world that we just cannot control, things we can't explain. Even though we can't control them, if we have someone we can trust by our side, then nothing can tear us down. One will pick up the other, the other will pick up the one." I say as I fondly remember the good, and the bad times I've experience with Jen. "Please, keep these words close and dear to your heart as I have.” I finally finished, nodding to Charlie that I was done.

Once those that needed to leave the room left, Charlie took a firm grip on me, and I could clearly see his red and swollen cheeks.  Finally, it was time.

“Administer the painkiller.” The Warden said to his guards.

With what I knew to be my final words, I cryingly uttered,

“I… I don’t want to die.”

Anyway the wind blows...