Page 191 - creative spark 2020

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The thought ‘I’m going to die’ rang in my head, and I was
caught between giving my diary--my childhood--to Liron or not.
I guess no. He was going to have a great life as a hero, and
I shouldn’t weigh him down.

Yet I was alive, sitting in the cell with a chicken pie in front
of me. Today was the execution. Liron had come to visit me for the
last time.

“Give me the diary. Maybe I can arrange to have your story
published so the people will understand your perspective,” he said.

Enraged. Crestfallen. Yielded. I asked blankly, “Smile for
me?”
That was all I could ask for, and it was more than enough.
My flesh started to vaporize. The poison kicked in. I hugged
the diary and maybe, I thought, the sun shone on me, again.