(TW: Hanging)

I didn't drop my stare to the ground. Not once.

Coarse ropes pressed against my hands, occasionally shifting and rubbing my skin. The rough cobblestones leading to my fate were warm, after sitting in the sun. Still, some loose bits would sink into my feet, and fall off with a skitter.

"We are gathered here today," My father's voice booms throughout the square, "to bear witness to the execution of a traitor. My own son."

The escorts shove me to the top of the platform, and noise erupts from all around me. Jeers, snarky and insulting comments, boos rang out from nearly everyone. I kept my head held high.

A few faces in the crowd gazed at me with sympathy. The woman from the small candle shop, the elderly man from the park, and a few boys from school. The candle maker's daughter looked on the verge of breaking into tears. I gave her a small smile; she buried her face into her mom's side.

My father raised a hand to stop the noise. All that remained was the quiet hum of summer bees.

He turned to me, and coldly spat, "Shieldy Metal Reflection."

No matter how disapproving or spiteful his gaze was, I stood firm. Many times before, I let him down because I couldn't be proper. It felt awful.

But this was different. I'm right this time. It's not okay to keep prisoners in the dungeon, leaving them to slowly die, when they had a life and family to return to. I couldn't leave them there. I freed them, and I will stand by my decision.

Even if it meant death.

I march to the middle of the hanging platform, inside the square that marked the trapdoor.

"Let this be an example to everyone in the future.", My father spoke solemnly, facing the crowd. "I will not hesitate to punish those who commit treason, no matter who it may be."

My father steps up to me, staring with a hard look in his eyes. "Any last words, Shieldy Metal Reflection?"

I take a steadying breath.

"No matter what you make of it..I did the right thing." I speak loudly, meaningfully. Some objects in the crowd scoff. Others regarded me with a thoughtful expression.

"Very well, then."

My father returns to his original spot and nods to the executioner, who steps forward and drapes a white cloth over me. Another coarse rope tightens around me just below my mouth, securing the cloth on my head.

My breathing and heart rate quickens against my will. I attempt to halt my knees from quivering in place, with no success.

A loud ga-chunck blares from behind, and my world falls out underneath me. Instinctively, I draw my legs up, but they hang when the falling is abruptly stopped, and the noose digs into me.

It gets tighter, and physically feels like my body is getting compressed; breaths come in short gasps. I kick my legs slightly, every swing coming with a creak. All the while, choking for air that becomes harder and harder to get.

A lightheadedness sinks in, every movement causing blinding lights to flash at me. The rope keeps squeezing. It's impossible to breathe. I dangle there like the chimes in the candle shop. 

Black creeps into my vision.

Then the whole world goes black.