Everyone was of the casts from all of his creations. We were looking on now, as the lethal torture begun.
The scene started with Dan lying in a cot-like chair, his arms and legs both strapped down. The plump, forearm veins are swabbed off with rubbing alcohol. He whimpers in fright as two IVs are inserted into his right and left arm veins. The poor man tries to escape,but cannot. He is tied down and had no choice but to feel his own death as it happened. Saline drops are inserted, as well as the normal procedures you would find preparing for anything involving IVs. Now, comes the devastating part. The first deadly chemical, which I soon researched as Sodium thiopental ran through the tiny tube, like a predator sneaking upon its prey, and invaded his blood vessels. All that happened was he began to cry, as if he was feeling pitiful for these sexual wrongdoings of his. He..actually felt like what he did was wrong, and wanted to apologize to every one of those actresses, and regain their trust. He couldn't now. He had his chance.
Unfortunately, this is just the first of the THREE.
The next one, Pancuronium bromide, polluted his bloodstream even more, causing him to rapidly gasp, and attempt yet again to free himself from this hell. But the hell was winning.
Next, I saw the executioner that was in the same room I was in connect the vial of the worst one of all,Potassium Chloride, to his IVs.
I couldn't. I just couldn't. This was it. The man who started all of our claims to fame was seconds from having his death witnessed. By every single one of us.
No matter how hard I tried to leave, to speak, to even CRY, I was just as condemned as Dan. Couldn't get a single word out. I was silenced. Because who cares what they have to say about him? They all were abused by him, THEY ALL HATE HIM and are looking forward to his death, right. WRONG.
There was nothing else to do but watch this liquid death pour right into the man-legend's veins. Dan reacted with a blood-curdling scream that I still hear its echo to this very day, if I am alone and quiet enough. I couldn't leave it on that day. I was going through all the stages of grief, all at once. I was denying this was happening. I was bargaining that maybe if he had time to go through a hearing, or even take his own life, antyhing ELSE would solve the problem. Depression of the now fading life of what used to be our metaphorical father. Anger at this type of punishment, and why it is still legal to this very day. But no acceptance. There will never, EVER, be any acceptance of this cruel, unlawful act.
My eyes were glued to the glass as I watched Dan take his final breaths. 1,2,3...until.
The steady tone of a flatline overpowered the screams in my head.
It was over.
It was over.
HE'S OVER! Right before my eyes.
Right at this moment, I wish that my life was taken too,anything to be rid of this devilish event.
We were allowed to come in. The still, stiff, lifeless corpse of what once had the soul of a man who worked his hardest, never stopped, and made his mistakes, now has a soul that is in a easier-going, more guilt-free place.
He didn't breathe. Not a single molecule of air entered of escaped his body now.
He had no pulse. It's all chemical now.
He even had the same look on his face after he had just fallen into a deep sleep. He was sleeping peacefully now, more than ever.
It was now, that my voice came back.
Night, Danny.
I could hear faintly back in my mind, against the other sounds:
Night, Miranda.