The metal shackles around my wrists are cold and painful on my raw skin. I can see the redness they’ve caused after days of being there and I can feel the sweat between the skin on my arm and the hand that leads me down the hall. All I can do is look at the floor as I walk along. I feel the stares of people as I pass by. Each eye burning into me. Each mind contemplating what’s about to happen. There isn’t an ounce of pity in the whole place…not even from me. I fidget my hands within the confines of the shackles that hold them together. How long is this hall? When will I be free of these eyes? I dare not look up, but know by the sound of crying that I’m nearing my destination. I know she wants me to look at her…to see her anguish. I owe her that…but I can’t. Even in these last moments I can’t do what I know I should. I just want to get out of this hall. Even the fear of what’s waiting for me doesn’t overshadow the guilt bearing down on me now.

At last we arrive. The heavy hand on my arm forces me into a chair. My eyes stay fixed on the ground. It’s my last act of power. I won’t look up no matter what they do to me. But I know I’m guilty. Why now in the face of death am I still trying to hold onto my pride? Pride is what got me here in the first place. I waver back and forth between hardness of heart and complete terror.

I knew all along that I’d be caught. And I knew when that happened that the fight would finally be over. There’s no forgiveness for what I’ve done. No mercy from the judge. I don’t expect it and I know I don’t deserve it. So I just sit….and wait.

The people around me are talking, but I don’t know what they’re saying. The voices in my head are drowning them out. That all too familiar hand grabs my arm again and forces me to my feet. This is it. Time to face what I’ve done. Not just this time, but every time before. Every time that I didn’t get caught. The list is long and despite my best efforts each one of them comes flooding back into my mind. Each offense pouring out judgment. There’s no need for this courtroom; the torment has already begun. I try to reach my shackled hands up to cover my ears in a vain attempt to quiet the screaming in my mind. Suddenly the voices disappear. Complete silence fills the room except for the sound of footsteps. One after the other. Slowly walking toward me. Without a thought to my pride or the battle I had waged to look only at the ground my head darts up. What is he doing here? My heart beats faster and faster the closer he comes to me. His eyes are fixed on mine. And oh his eyes. His are the first eyes not filled with hatred that I’ve seen in a long time. Although, I don’t quite recognize the look that is in his eyes. There is love….immense love…but there’s something else. Something I’m sure I’ve never seen before.

The hand releases my arm and moves toward my hands. I look down once again, this time not in shame, but in confusion as he removes the shackles. Shackles that seem to have been there for my entire life. I don’t understand. Why is he taking them off? I look back to the man who is now standing right in front of me. I’m too scared to say anything, but he just smiles at me. Before I know what’s happening the shackles that I was wearing just seconds before are now on him. “Wait!” I cry. What are they doing?! The hand that lead me into the courtroom earlier now restrains me as they lead him away. Why are they taking him? He hasn’t done anything? Although I’ve never met him before, I feel like I’ve always known him. And I know he’s perfect. I know he’s not like me. I deserve what I get, but not him. Not him!

I’m hysterical now. Fighting to free myself from the hand’s grip. I have to stop this. It isn’t right…it can’t be right. Over the sound of my tears I hear the judge pronounce his verdict. Guilty with a sentence of death. No! This can’t be happening! That’s my verdict! My sentence!

The hand finally releases me, but I don’t move. I’m frozen. The man who had been holding me looks at me for the first time. “You’re free to go” he says. I just look at him in disbelief. I can’t comprehend it. “Don’t you understand?” he asks. “He’s taking your place.”

I look back to the front of the courtroom at the man who just saved my life. They begin to lead him away and all I can do is cry. “Why?” I ask myself. “Why would anyone take my place? Why would this man give his life so that I can go free?” And as if he can hear every thought racing through my head he pauses in front of me and says “Because I love you.”