What Would You Say?
Georg sits on death row for the murder of Bill Kaulitz.
Question formatting influenced by and based upon the Marvel Comics graphic novel Inhumans. No copyright infringement intended.
What would you say? - if you had only one thing to say?
What would you do?-if you made a mistake you could never take back?
What would you ask for?-if you could be given anything to eat?
It is over. My life is at an end. One day more and then I will be gone, away from this world, away from this prison.
ØØØ
The fair in South Carolina. He was with me, my arm around his shoulders, as though in protection. We walked like that through the fairgrounds. He was so happy just to be there with me. We were together, in that foreign place where no one knew us.
He smelled of apple, that I remember.
He smelled of apple when he died.
ØØØ
The other prisoners watch me as the guards lead me to my cell. They have watched me for the last week, knowing I will not be with them for much longer.
They are scared to be so close to death.
Everyone knows it will happen someday. Maybe it will be painful, maybe it will be quiet; maybe it will be the end of suffering, maybe it will be the beginning of hell.
I know at least when.
I know what tomorrow brings.
ØØØ
We were together for two years. We were perhaps in love for a very long time, in the innocent guise of friendship. Perhaps it was just me, loving him.
I remember how beautiful he was, how liquid his eyes were, and how wondrous his smile was. I remember the static hum of his touch and the burn of his kiss.
I remember how he looked as he lay dying.
ØØØ
I could have been tried in Germany. There is no death penalty there.
But, did I really want to spend the rest of my life thinking about it? Did I really want to wonder forever if I could have done something different, if I could have saved Bill?
I think then, that I just wanted to die. I do not really remember afterwards.
Only two days are clear in my mind now: the day he died- and the day Tom came to talk to me.
He had been angry, it was his right. I had let his brother die in my hands.
“I shouldn’t have ever trusted you,” he hissed through the glass window.
“I wish I had never met you, Georg. I hope you suffer every day you still live. I hope you never forget that you murdered my little brother. I hope that even God never forgives you for what you did to Bill.”
There was no forgiveness in his eyes. My best friend hated me and would always hate me. There was nothing left of what we had been.
I did not plead with Tom that day. I just sat there in my orange jumpsuit with my freshly shaven head, my face stoic. I revealed nothing- I had nothing I could say to repair what was broken.
ØØØ
We rode on the Ferris wheel, Bill and I. He laughed as we went to the top. The lights and the people down below looked so small. We could see the whole fair from up there. He told me he felt like he was on top of the world.
He kissed me when we got off.
ØØØ
The witnesses said I let Bill fall over the edge. They said I did not cry out when he fell or when he hit the wooden fence. They said I stood there, staring down at the ground, for a long time as the people gathered round his limp body.
I was in shock.
He was sitting on the railing one moment, my hands on his thighs, his hands on mine. We were talking, laughing- and then he was gone.
Maybe he slipped. Maybe I pushed him. Maybe he fell on purpose. Maybe, maybe, maybe… I just do not know.
ØØØ
They say that you can tell a person’s native language by the way they do math. It is one of those things that is so ingrained by culture that you never can let go.
In the boredom that my life has become, I have tried many things. Mental games to keep me sane. Crosswords with references that became more and more familiar over time. Taking apart my radio and putting it back together until it eventually broke and I got another. Watching the other inmates, then learning why that was a bad idea. Reciting conversations that happened so long ago that I barely remember if I ever actually had them.
Every day becoming more and more a person I do not recognize.
I have counted down the days until the end a hundred thousand times. In my isolation, those words mean nothing: I can count in English perfectly. I have no reason not to.
But I want to die in my first language. I want to die speaking German.
ØØØ
I remember the first time we lay together, our bodies still and warm.
He was shy at first, unsure what to do. I was gentle.
Bill slept in my arms that night.
ØØØ
My last meal is steak and soft-boiled eggs. It is simple- we are only allotted forty dollars worth of food to keep costs down- but it is good. I eat in silence, thinking only about the food.
There was a time when thoughts plagued me, when I could not go thirty minutes without remembering my former life. Now it is quieter. I have less to worry about and so go without words for long periods.
The guards are quiet, too.
ØØØ
I choose the electric chair.
The canvas bag is placed over my head to act as a mask and electrodes are attached to my head and leg. I am made to wear an adult diaper to avoid any messes for the prison workers.
It is humiliating but that is why I choose it. I have spent too many years unpunished for what I did.
I say my last words, an apology for everything.
Tom did not come and so my words have little purpose.
My mother is here, to watch her son’s death. It hurts to know that I will die before her time is through.
The guard tells me to count as long as I can.
“One,” he says, counting down until the initial jolt.
Eins.
“Two.”
Zwei.
“Three.”
Drei.
“Four.”
Vier.