The turn of the jailer's jangling keys reminds me of that echoing gunshot that reverberated through my whole life. He smelt bad - it had obviously been raining outside, but those brown stains from his shoes clearly weren't just mud. His squelchy, heavy footprints came closer, until I could almost feel the humidity coming off his soaked dark clothes. He says it's time. I turn to my little brother, and tell him that I'll see him again soon. Will it be soon? I don't even know. I hug him for the last time. I make it a good one - people call them bear hugs, but I must have been more boa constrictor. Too quickly, the jailer steps in. And takes my brother away.
I can still hear the echo.