Disclaimer: No, I am not Charles Dickens. Nor will I ever be Charles Dickens. Therefore, I did not write or own Great Expectations.
Magwitch's dead body was limp in Pip's hands. Slowly, as if he would break and shatter into a thousand pieces at the slightest unpredictable movement, Pip lowered him down on to the musty, bug-ridden bed of Magwitch's prison cell. It was the day of his execution; naturally, Pip thought, he chose to die in peace.
As Pip began to ring his hands in agony, he recited a swift prayer within his head over Magwitch. He could only hope that he did the right thing.
As Pip rose and slowly walked to the prison cell door, something hit him. A realization, so big and unimaginable that it even stopped Pip in his tracks.
Oh dear, he thinks. What have I done?
It slowly washes over him, everything that has happened to him in the last years of his life: Jaggers' arrival at the marshes, moving in with Herbert, his quest to become a gentleman and - yes! That's it.
What has he done with these great expectations of his? What has he achieved?
Pip sank to the floor, tears streaming down his face as he is faced with an overwhelming question:
"Why me?"
I know- short and sweet right? Well, I hope you like it. Reviews are very welcome.