DYING TO LIVE



A PpG 'alternate reality' fan fiction

By I am a good fighter


DISCLAIMER: Powerpuff Girls created by Craig McCracken and all characters associated with the show are owned by Cartoon Network


Story idea adapted from the novel 'Replay' (c) 1986 by Ken Grimwood


This story is rated PG-13




TWELVE

Now you might ask, Dear Diary, if I knew all along when I was going to die, and by now you know I did; what was the point of that whole charade in court? Why insist on being sentenced to death when it didn't matter what the courts did with me? Well, I'll tell you, I did it for two reasons. First, I wanted to have control over something. I did that for my own ego; yes, after all I'd been through, I still had it. But the most important thing to me was I wanted justice. Justice for Buttercup, for Bubbles, for Professor. It was the only thing I could do for them. They were gone from this world and soon I would be, too. I could have given the 'not guilty' plea, sat through the trial, and accepted whatever prison term I got, knowing they would never give a child the death penalty. But by insisting on it, it was now on record that no matter who you were, even a superhero that was once loved by everyone, if you committed the ultimate crime, you paid the ultimate price.

What about the coincidence of the judge picking the exact date and time? That was Fate, laughing at me, mocking me, telling me that I had control over nothing.

Like I told you, Dear Diary, I never cried another tear. I was done crying for myself; self-pity hadn't ever done me any good. I had done all I could for my family, and I hoped I would see them again. What if I had just sentenced them to the same fate I was suffering? To have died before your time, to be restored to living only to die, again and again, full of questions with no answers. If they were, at least they were in it together. I prayed that wasn't the case, that in whatever afterlife existed for them, they were at peace. Then, I realized that when I came back to life again, I would instantly have the answer to that question. Since they had died before me, if they were there, then their deaths were just a one-time thing, something that happened only in this world. That was awful enough, but at least they wouldn't have to go through this torture. If they weren't there...it was too terrible to even think about and I pushed it out of my mind.

It had been early June 1999 when I came back this time; June the 8th, to be exact. The same exact day Professor and my long lost mother had their first date. How terribly ironic, to have helped create a family and to have single-handedly destroyed it, all on the same day.






It was August and I had a year to wait and think. I was the only female on Death Row, as well as the only child, so I was kept away from the other prisoners. I also had the ability to break out any time I wanted, though I had no intention of doing that. So they had to build a special cell with extra thick walls and titanium shackles that I couldn't get out of. But I was a model prisoner, and after a while, the guards cut me some slack, and I never betrayed their trust. I spent the time wondering how I would handle the reunion with Buttercup and Bubbles when I saw them again. What would be happening when I 'became aware' the next time? Would we be in school, stopping a bank robbery, bashing some monster or just home asleep in our bed? I hoped my joy at seeing their faces, alive again, would overcome my guilt. I missed them so much!

Another thing: Because of what I did, Townsville was left unprotected. What kind of terrible place was it going to become, thanks to me? Well, I soon found out. About a month after I was put on Death Row, that old fraud Major Man crawled out from whatever rock he'd been hiding under. But instead of soaking up the glory, which was all he ever cared about; he tearfully pleaded with the people for a second chance. And, judging from what little TV I got to see, and the newspapers; he made the best of it. He became to Townsville what we had been, and was humble about it. He became a true hero. I guess it was Fate's way of cleaning up my mess.

Nobody I knew, not Mayor, Ms. Bellum or any of my friends ever came to see me. If they had, I wouldn't have been able to look them in the face. From time to time though, some lawyers from the ACLU would show up, wanting to talk to me about the appeals they had filed on my behalf. I refused to see them, asking my guards to tell them nicely to get lost. I didn't want their help. Toward the end, I had one repeat visitor. A man came every day, and every day I turned him away. They told me he was a Very Important Person and I should talk to him because he wanted to help me. No one could help me, not some do-gooder or worse yet, some writer who wanted me to tell the world my 'story'. Through him, of course. Thanks, but no thanks.

I wondered how it would happen. The appeals process had put my execution off for years; I would never see it. Another heart attack? Some inmate run amok stabbing me with a shiv made from a spoon? I knew by now that Fate, the curse, or whatever would handle it for me and I quit worrying about it. I even stopped paying attention to what day it was. Imagine my surprise when the guard woke me one morning.

"Blossom, today's the day."

"Today's the day, what? That I get clean sheets? Cereal without roaches? What?"

I was kidding and she knew it; I joked with her all the time. She didn't smile, she looked very unhappy and suddenly I knew.

"So soon? How?" Not that I really cared, I was curious more than anything.

"The governor put it on the fast track and your last appeal was denied. They want to make an example of you."

I'm sure they were dancing in the streets over that news.

"Good to see someone in government's got some...er...backbone." I'd decided to watch my language from now on. "Is today the 19th?"

I knew it had to be, but I waited for her to nod yes. "I'm really sorry, Blossom. I never thought it would be this soon."

"It's OK" I smiled. "When?"

"The time you asked for."

I hadn't really asked for it, just wrote on that paper what I knew was the truth. This wasn't Fate. Someone was involved and I thought I knew who it was. Then again, it WAS Fate. This person just didn't know Fate was using him.

"Thanks for being nice to me." I told the guard. She nodded and left in a hurry. I felt bad for her.

Another guard came later, saying I could have anything I wanted to eat. I passed. Finally, it was time. Two male guards came and walked me to a small room with tile on the walls and floor, and windows on three walls. One looked out onto the hallway. Standing there were the warden, chaplain and the technician who was about to kill me. The other two windows looked out into rooms, where the press and any members of the families of the condemned, or their victims, could witness the execution if they wanted to. Both of the rooms were empty. The media weren't allowed to cover it because of my age, and of course, you know why there was nobody else there. Inside the room was a stainless steel table shaped like a narrow bed, with leather straps. The chaplain, the tech and the guards walked me inside the room.

"I don't need those, I won't fight." I said, pointing at the straps.

"You will, you just won't know it." said the tech.

I laid down on the table and let myself be strapped in. The tech nodded and the guards left. I could see the warden and there was someone else standing next to him. It was the person I expected.

I said to the chaplain, "Would you ask him to come in here, please?"

He did, and the two men were standing next to me. I looked up at the newcomer and said "Hiya, judge. Thanks for coming."

"Hello, Blossom."

"Thank you for doing this for me. I know you're friends with the governor."

He looked down at me and I could see the pain in his eyes.

"Blossom, in all my years on the bench I've never seen anyone so intent on paying for their crimes as you. At first, I was very angry with you for making a mockery of my court. But the more I thought about it, I came to the conclusion that you weren't asking to die for any other reason than that you believed you had to be punished for what you did, without regard for why you did it."

There was no reason for me to tell him that I was going to die at 1:17 in the afternoon on the 19th of August in the year 2000 whether he had anything to do with it or not. I was just happy he understood about justice and accepting responsibility for one's actions.

"I'm glad you understand, your honor."

"Would you like to tell me now, why you did it?"

It was the one question everyone had always wanted answered. I never answered it beyond my lie in court and wasn't about to start now. I was satisfied that justice was served. I wasn't doing anything to undo that. To tell the real truth would make me appear insane, and insane people are often forgiven by society for their crimes. Society had no right to forgive me, only Bubbles, Buttercup and Professor could do that. I looked him right in the eyes.

"If I tell you, will it bring them back?"

I'll never know if he knew what I was thinking or if he thought I was just being smart with him again, but he sort of smiled.

"No, Blossom, it won't."

The chaplain looked at me and asked if I cared to pray with him.

"No, sir. I've said all there is to say."

He seemed surprised. "You're very sure of that, Blossom?"

"Yes, sir. I've asked Professor and my sisters to forgive me. Either they have or they haven't, it's out of my hands."

"As you wish." He said a brief silent prayer, then made a sign with his hand. "May God have mercy on your soul."

How could I explain that whatever was behind this wasn't ready to hand me over to God just yet? I thanked him and asked the technician if the chaplain and the judge could stay with me. The look on his face said it was against the rules, but I saw him glance out to where the warden was standing. The man nodded. I said a silent thank you and closed my eyes, trying to picture my loved ones' faces. I felt the needle go into my right arm, and my body jerked involuntarily as I felt a sharp pain; the lethal drug stopping my heart. My last conscious thought was of being at the amusement park, strapped into the car as the roller coaster started up one more time.