I value any comments you might have and any ideas about how the story might be made better.
It is 8 A.M.
Copyright by djbear
They will release the gas in one hour. One hour left to live. The pastor from town whose church I attended is here with me and he
carefully tried to keep me from noticing the time. However, I became aware that the news came on the radio and when I heard on
the news that the Governor had denied me any relief, I started to tear up. He had heard the news too and offered to hug me although
I know he felt uncomfortable doing so. He was being little help. I felt I was being suportive of him and not the other way around.
My name is Jack. I have only been on the row 11 months but appeals were speeded up in this state because it was felt the appeals
process was being abused. I am the first case to be rushed through. The crime which I am alleged to have committed happened
in January 1999 and it is now December 1999. I am not even going to see the new millenium or my 19th birthday. I am convicted
of a crime I did not commit which happened on my 18th birthday, January 20. My buddy, Doug, and I were in a convenience store
picking up some decorations for a party Doug was holding for my birthday when a rather large bald-headed man entered the store
and shot the clerk. Doug was badly wounded by a bullet and I rushed to aid him. The gun had been thrown down next to Doug to
make it look like he was the bandit and I touched it in trying to move Doug to a better position. When the police arrived, I was covered
in blood and my fingerprints were on the gun.
Instead of permitting me to phone Doug'a family, they arrested me on the spot and took me to police headquarters. My parents,
while being shocked seemed unable to put together any legal assistance so I accepted a court appointed lawyer who was not
interested in anything more than the money he would get for defending me. He did not seem to believe me - he accepted the
story the DA gave and he felt the best way he could protect me was to blame a poor childhood for my crime. A crime I did not commit.
The trial was over in two months and it was like a nightmare for me. The worst part was listening to the police talk as if I was the only possible
suspect and put together the evidence in such a way that it sounded like I was guilty. They made out that my parents were horrible at parenting
because my older sister had been arrested once on suspicion of prostitution but they never admitted that she was exonerated of the crime.
The day the jury found me guilty, I had to admit to myself that had I sat on that jury, I would have said the same thing. Then the penalty trial
came and my mother got on the stand and sounded like an idiot. She cried, forgot my name, and seemed really stressed. I could understand
knowing her. Then, the wife of the clerk and Doug's mother took the stand and told how they felt robbed of loved ones. After that the jury
quickly dtermined the penalty to be death in the chamber.
I almost collapsed when I heard the verdict but I felt I would be exonerated on appeal but the lawyer appointed by the state to represent me at
appeal seemed uninterested in my case. He talked to me once and I suggested that he supena the video tapes at the store to see what happened
but he put no effort into that line and instead argued that I was mentally incapble of knowing what I was doing at the time of the crime. The judges
could see that I was mentally competent so that arguement went no where.
Once a verdict has been handed down and the first appeal has been handed down, it is very difficult to reverse a decision. The supreme court basically
looks at the conduct of the trial to see it was done by law and since mine had been, there was no way to get a reversal there.
So, now I sit here with my pastor. I have read a great deal about death in the gas chamber. I know that basically death is from lack of oxygen to the
brain. The gas precludes oxygen from entering the blood and so one suffocates. If one takes a deep and huge intake of gas in the first breath, the blood
are starved of oxygen more quickly and unconsciousness comes quicker. If one intakes only a small amount of gas on the first breath, several more
breaths will be needed and it will take longer to become unconscious. Unconsciousness does not stop the body from fighting to get oxygen to the brain
but it does stop the person from knowing what the body is doing. Yet, I know it is difficult to force oneself to suck in a huge amount of the gas which
you know will kill you. I can't get my mind off of what I will be able to do when the moment comes.
The guards sitting outside the cell are trying to be nice to me. They offer coffee and water. I really want neither. I wish this nightmare were over.
Pastor Jones takes coffee after coffee. He offers to pray. I agree but then his prayer is not that helpful. Finally, I tell Pastor Jones to go and join the
witnesses as I want some time to pray alone. He accepts that and says a blessing over me before exiting.
Now, I am alone. My mind is jumping, knowing time is going but wishing it were over, while also hoping somehow the Governor will issue a stay although realistically, that is not going to happen.
It is agony sitting here knowing they still have to prep me. I do not want to have to put up with anybody. I want to be alone. I think about the unfairness of life and just briefly think that maybe getting away from this unfairness might be for the best. Then, I realize how much hurt this sentence has caused so many people. I have written a long letter to my parents and sent a copy to a couple of others. I have specifically sent it to some well-known criminal lawyers and even John Grisham in the hopes that after I am gone, they will seek out the truth. Maybe, there will be some reforms made to the justice system in this country if they find out I am innocent.
Even the guards are beginning to look nervous. They have been nice to me.
Oh, I am not going to marry and have children. I love children. I am not going to be able to be an architect like I so want to be. Why am I thinking these thoughts? They make it worse for me.
The doctor crept up to the cell bars and startled me. My head was buried in my hands while I was thinking. He speaks to me and I jerk my head to see who it is. As I do so, one of the guards unlocks the cell and the doctor steps inside. He asks me my name and birthdate and how I am feeling right now. He tells me to remove all my clothes. I hesitate as I do not like the guards seeing me naked and I have not gotten used to it in the 8 months I have been in this prison.
The orange jump suit has velcro closings and I open them slowly. The doctor tells me I need to speed it up. He lectures me on hurrying with my cloth slippers and my undershorts. I ought to take a few minutes to describe myself. I am a natural strawberry blond guy, 5' 11", with well-developed pecs, a large ball sac which hangs low with heavy balls. I used to get ribbed in the locker room after gym as my cock was so thick. Most the guys used to say "the girls won't be able to take that" but litle did they know that Doug loved to suck it and we were getting used to anal sex with each other - we did it both ways too. My leg and arm muscles were well-developed as Doug and I worked out. My chest and legs are thickly covered with light hair. I am told my blue eyes are piercing but break into a smile often. Will I still smile one last time?
The doctor asks me to stand with my hands by my side while he examines my pulse, my blood pressure, my eyes and ears. He has me bend over while he does a prostrate exam (I suppose to ensure there is nothing hidden to thwart the will of the state). He says I am a great looking guy and in excellent shape and tells me it is too bad that he will be conducting an autopsy on my body in a couple of hours. He then takes some tape out of his bag and a stethescope head attached to a short tube which he then places on my chest with a strip of tape. I know the hairs on my chest will pull when it comes off but then I realize I will not feel it come off as I will be dead.
He then tells the guards to let him out of the cell and says someone will be around in five minutes to see me. I just sat down to write this. One of the guards has agreed to finish it for me.
Written by David Cox, 079536, Head Guard on Death Row:
Then Jack heard the footsteps of five people coming down the corridor. He jumped when he heard them open the steel door at the end of the corridor. I unlocked the cell before they got to it. Joe was carrying a small package. He entered alone and asked Jack to bend over and he stuffed some cotton balls in Jack's anus. He then gave Jack a pair of tight white shorts to put on. They showed off Jack's heavy balls and thick cock almost like an obscenity.
The other guards moved in quickly and cuffed Jack's wrists behind him and moved him out of the cell. he was pushed along quickly to the open steel door at the end of the corridor while the other inmaes shouted at him best wishes and others hsouted obscenities at him.
He quickly glanced at the chamber and was stopped at the door where the handcuffs were removed. He then stepped over the entry and turned around as the guards shoved him into the chair where they quickly had his wrists strapped down and then the other straps on his legs and across his abdomen. The one across his chest seemed awfully high since it had to avoid the stethescope.
The warden stepped in and read the death warrent. Jack looked disinterested as he searched the faces of the witnesses for his brother and pastor. Once the warden had finished Jack was asked if he had anything to say and he did say he was innocent and hoped his death would not end the search for truth. Then a guard placed a strap under Jack's chin and around the back of the chair and another guard attached a long tube to the one hanging from Jack's chest.
As the door closed, I assume Jack heard the seal lock. A tear ran down his cheek but he gave a tiny smile. Then the exhaust started - taking some of the air out of the chamber so the gas would rise faster.
I hear the swish of the acid going through the tube into the chamber and wonder what it must be like for Jack. I see the tears start flowing out of his eyes but he tries to smile. He is trying so hard to take it like a man. Yet, he looks like a child in there. Then, I hear the plop of the pellets of potasium cyanide as they drop into the acid. I know Jack hears them as he shows shock on his face. I watch his face for what seems like ages but must only be less than a minute when he draws a huge breath. The smell must be awful as he screws up his face. He now starts to pant as he tries to get oxygen and he tries to twist and fight to get his wrists and arms loose. He is fighting hard but not getting anywhere and eventually the strength to fight seems to slow and his head slumps. He still wiggles quite a bit and probably a minute later his head rises and he gasps before settling down again on his chest.
The stethescope is recording his heart and we can all hear it. It started to race when Jack heard the pellets drop and now it is going so fast it is unbelievable that it is a himan heart. After 6 more minutes, it stops and we know Jack is no longer amongst the living.
The exhaust which will evacuate the gas from the chamber and the fresh air they pump into the chamber starts. I am assigned to wait and go in and remove the body so I have to wait the hour as the gas is pumped out. In the final five minutes I donned my suit and gear so I will not be affected by any poisonous gas left. The door is unsealed and George and I step in. I fluff Jack’s hair and pull the stethescope off and we undo the straps and remove the shorts while we lay Jack out on the floor. He obviously ejaculated as he was dying and his cock remained semi-hard. It is our job to spray the whole chamber with gas neutralizing chemicals, including making sure Jack is thoroughly cleaner, including his nose, mouth, and anus before moving him onto a gurney and removing him to the autopsy room where the doctor is waiting. It was difficult watching as the doctor cut up this beautiful 18 year-old.
It is 8 A.M.
Copyright by djbear
They will release the gas in one hour. One hour left to live. The pastor from town whose church I attended is here with me and he
carefully tried to keep me from noticing the time. However, I became aware that the news came on the radio and when I heard on
the news that the Governor had denied me any relief, I started to tear up. He had heard the news too and offered to hug me although
I know he felt uncomfortable doing so. He was being little help. I felt I was being suportive of him and not the other way around.
My name is Jack. I have only been on the row 11 months but appeals were speeded up in this state because it was felt the appeals
process was being abused. I am the first case to be rushed through. The crime which I am alleged to have committed happened
in January 1999 and it is now December 1999. I am not even going to see the new millenium or my 19th birthday. I am convicted
of a crime I did not commit which happened on my 18th birthday, January 20. My buddy, Doug, and I were in a convenience store
picking up some decorations for a party Doug was holding for my birthday when a rather large bald-headed man entered the store
and shot the clerk. Doug was badly wounded by a bullet and I rushed to aid him. The gun had been thrown down next to Doug to
make it look like he was the bandit and I touched it in trying to move Doug to a better position. When the police arrived, I was covered
in blood and my fingerprints were on the gun.
Instead of permitting me to phone Doug'a family, they arrested me on the spot and took me to police headquarters. My parents,
while being shocked seemed unable to put together any legal assistance so I accepted a court appointed lawyer who was not
interested in anything more than the money he would get for defending me. He did not seem to believe me - he accepted the
story the DA gave and he felt the best way he could protect me was to blame a poor childhood for my crime. A crime I did not commit.
The trial was over in two months and it was like a nightmare for me. The worst part was listening to the police talk as if I was the only possible
suspect and put together the evidence in such a way that it sounded like I was guilty. They made out that my parents were horrible at parenting
because my older sister had been arrested once on suspicion of prostitution but they never admitted that she was exonerated of the crime.
The day the jury found me guilty, I had to admit to myself that had I sat on that jury, I would have said the same thing. Then the penalty trial
came and my mother got on the stand and sounded like an idiot. She cried, forgot my name, and seemed really stressed. I could understand
knowing her. Then, the wife of the clerk and Doug's mother took the stand and told how they felt robbed of loved ones. After that the jury
quickly dtermined the penalty to be death in the chamber.
I almost collapsed when I heard the verdict but I felt I would be exonerated on appeal but the lawyer appointed by the state to represent me at
appeal seemed uninterested in my case. He talked to me once and I suggested that he supena the video tapes at the store to see what happened
but he put no effort into that line and instead argued that I was mentally incapble of knowing what I was doing at the time of the crime. The judges
could see that I was mentally competent so that arguement went no where.
Once a verdict has been handed down and the first appeal has been handed down, it is very difficult to reverse a decision. The supreme court basically
looks at the conduct of the trial to see it was done by law and since mine had been, there was no way to get a reversal there.
So, now I sit here with my pastor. I have read a great deal about death in the gas chamber. I know that basically death is from lack of oxygen to the
brain. The gas precludes oxygen from entering the blood and so one suffocates. If one takes a deep and huge intake of gas in the first breath, the blood
are starved of oxygen more quickly and unconsciousness comes quicker. If one intakes only a small amount of gas on the first breath, several more
breaths will be needed and it will take longer to become unconscious. Unconsciousness does not stop the body from fighting to get oxygen to the brain
but it does stop the person from knowing what the body is doing. Yet, I know it is difficult to force oneself to suck in a huge amount of the gas which
you know will kill you. I can't get my mind off of what I will be able to do when the moment comes.
The guards sitting outside the cell are trying to be nice to me. They offer coffee and water. I really want neither. I wish this nightmare were over.
Pastor Jones takes coffee after coffee. He offers to pray. I agree but then his prayer is not that helpful. Finally, I tell Pastor Jones to go and join the
witnesses as I want some time to pray alone. He accepts that and says a blessing over me before exiting.
Now, I am alone. My mind is jumping, knowing time is going but wishing it were over, while also hoping somehow the Governor will issue a stay although realistically, that is not going to happen.
It is agony sitting here knowing they still have to prep me. I do not want to have to put up with anybody. I want to be alone. I think about the unfairness of life and just briefly think that maybe getting away from this unfairness might be for the best. Then, I realize how much hurt this sentence has caused so many people. I have written a long letter to my parents and sent a copy to a couple of others. I have specifically sent it to some well-known criminal lawyers and even John Grisham in the hopes that after I am gone, they will seek out the truth. Maybe, there will be some reforms made to the justice system in this country if they find out I am innocent.
Even the guards are beginning to look nervous. They have been nice to me.
Oh, I am not going to marry and have children. I love children. I am not going to be able to be an architect like I so want to be. Why am I thinking these thoughts? They make it worse for me.
The doctor crept up to the cell bars and startled me. My head was buried in my hands while I was thinking. He speaks to me and I jerk my head to see who it is. As I do so, one of the guards unlocks the cell and the doctor steps inside. He asks me my name and birthdate and how I am feeling right now. He tells me to remove all my clothes. I hesitate as I do not like the guards seeing me naked and I have not gotten used to it in the 8 months I have been in this prison.
The orange jump suit has velcro closings and I open them slowly. The doctor tells me I need to speed it up. He lectures me on hurrying with my cloth slippers and my undershorts. I ought to take a few minutes to describe myself. I am a natural strawberry blond guy, 5' 11", with well-developed pecs, a large ball sac which hangs low with heavy balls. I used to get ribbed in the locker room after gym as my cock was so thick. Most the guys used to say "the girls won't be able to take that" but litle did they know that Doug loved to suck it and we were getting used to anal sex with each other - we did it both ways too. My leg and arm muscles were well-developed as Doug and I worked out. My chest and legs are thickly covered with light hair. I am told my blue eyes are piercing but break into a smile often. Will I still smile one last time?
The doctor asks me to stand with my hands by my side while he examines my pulse, my blood pressure, my eyes and ears. He has me bend over while he does a prostrate exam (I suppose to ensure there is nothing hidden to thwart the will of the state). He says I am a great looking guy and in excellent shape and tells me it is too bad that he will be conducting an autopsy on my body in a couple of hours. He then takes some tape out of his bag and a stethescope head attached to a short tube which he then places on my chest with a strip of tape. I know the hairs on my chest will pull when it comes off but then I realize I will not feel it come off as I will be dead.
He then tells the guards to let him out of the cell and says someone will be around in five minutes to see me. I just sat down to write this. One of the guards has agreed to finish it for me.
Written by David Cox, 079536, Head Guard on Death Row:
Then Jack heard the footsteps of five people coming down the corridor. He jumped when he heard them open the steel door at the end of the corridor. I unlocked the cell before they got to it. Joe was carrying a small package. He entered alone and asked Jack to bend over and he stuffed some cotton balls in Jack's anus. He then gave Jack a pair of tight white shorts to put on. They showed off Jack's heavy balls and thick cock almost like an obscenity.
The other guards moved in quickly and cuffed Jack's wrists behind him and moved him out of the cell. he was pushed along quickly to the open steel door at the end of the corridor while the other inmaes shouted at him best wishes and others hsouted obscenities at him.
He quickly glanced at the chamber and was stopped at the door where the handcuffs were removed. He then stepped over the entry and turned around as the guards shoved him into the chair where they quickly had his wrists strapped down and then the other straps on his legs and across his abdomen. The one across his chest seemed awfully high since it had to avoid the stethescope.
The warden stepped in and read the death warrent. Jack looked disinterested as he searched the faces of the witnesses for his brother and pastor. Once the warden had finished Jack was asked if he had anything to say and he did say he was innocent and hoped his death would not end the search for truth. Then a guard placed a strap under Jack's chin and around the back of the chair and another guard attached a long tube to the one hanging from Jack's chest.
As the door closed, I assume Jack heard the seal lock. A tear ran down his cheek but he gave a tiny smile. Then the exhaust started - taking some of the air out of the chamber so the gas would rise faster.
I hear the swish of the acid going through the tube into the chamber and wonder what it must be like for Jack. I see the tears start flowing out of his eyes but he tries to smile. He is trying so hard to take it like a man. Yet, he looks like a child in there. Then, I hear the plop of the pellets of potasium cyanide as they drop into the acid. I know Jack hears them as he shows shock on his face. I watch his face for what seems like ages but must only be less than a minute when he draws a huge breath. The smell must be awful as he screws up his face. He now starts to pant as he tries to get oxygen and he tries to twist and fight to get his wrists and arms loose. He is fighting hard but not getting anywhere and eventually the strength to fight seems to slow and his head slumps. He still wiggles quite a bit and probably a minute later his head rises and he gasps before settling down again on his chest.
The stethescope is recording his heart and we can all hear it. It started to race when Jack heard the pellets drop and now it is going so fast it is unbelievable that it is a himan heart. After 6 more minutes, it stops and we know Jack is no longer amongst the living.
The exhaust which will evacuate the gas from the chamber and the fresh air they pump into the chamber starts. I am assigned to wait and go in and remove the body so I have to wait the hour as the gas is pumped out. In the final five minutes I donned my suit and gear so I will not be affected by any poisonous gas left. The door is unsealed and George and I step in. I fluff Jack’s hair and pull the stethescope off and we undo the straps and remove the shorts while we lay Jack out on the floor. He obviously ejaculated as he was dying and his cock remained semi-hard. It is our job to spray the whole chamber with gas neutralizing chemicals, including making sure Jack is thoroughly cleaner, including his nose, mouth, and anus before moving him onto a gurney and removing him to the autopsy room where the doctor is waiting. It was difficult watching as the doctor cut up this beautiful 18 year-old.
