Gallow's End

End
  It was a sign of times, they said. If it was, I would have to take their word for it. I didn't have time enough left to contemplate any more vague concepts. All I had was the honour of being the first victim for this one. It waited, looming above me, as I slowly marched up the stairs towards it, its unused blades shining in the sunlight. I glanced out at the crowd, the faces of people I knew... people I didn't, and a few I loved. When I'd been in the crowd, which now seemed to have been an eternity ago, it had seemed to not be real. Now, I see that to the people we would watch it seemed the same.
  They laid me down, but not to rest. The pleasure of rest would never be known to me, an end such as this did not warrant it. Face down; I couldn't see the end hanging above me. It seemed I could hear it, though, in the crowds screaming. I couldn't make out any of their words, but I doubted any of them were worth hearing anyway. Around me, the men who decided my end stood...chatting to each other. Casually, as though this were common place.
  In my final moments, I think I was glad that it was all coming to an end. When I had realized that they were just chatting about nothing, I couldn't help but wonder what the point in staying would be. To stay within a society that treated death as an everyday occasion seemed to me as torturous as any death. So, when I heard the level pulled, I let a smile play out over my palid features... and it was over.

Beginning
  Another one came up, his expression much more calm than the last. I appreciated it, I was sick to death (and isn't that ironic?, I thought) of the way they all acted as if they didn't deserve this. I, myself, was never told what they were sent to me for - and I didn't really care all that much - I trusted my government enough that I didn't see them as possibly being incorrect in sentencing people. Not that I would care much if they did, this job requires a near non-existent amount of effort, and it paid well. The most energy I exerted was holding them down while they were strapped in, and when they were calm and accepting even that wasn't a problem.
  Now, as I did it, I was again thankful for his calmness, for he did not put up any struggle at all. The last had nearly gotten up and away from me before his restraints could be tied in place... a mistake that could have cost me my pay for the entire week. This one, on the other hand, might as well have lain down on the bench on his own, and when they finished tying him in place I walked to the lever. I wrapped my hand around it, but just as I was going to pull he spoke,
  "You know, I was raised to believe that only my God could judge a man, that only He had the wisdom to condemn... When was it decided that mere men could condemn me?"
  His last having been said, I pulled... and it was over.
  Over, I found, for him; but not for me. His words, as simple and contrived as they were, would haunt me every time I went to the lever. Truly, he had had a question that was worth an answering. What did, in fact, give me the right to pull this lever? Of course, I knew the answer. Nothing; I had no right to bring death upon another man. As I realized this, I still pulled one last time. They cleared him away, and I set the blade back into place. The others walk away to get the next criminal, and I lay myself down onto the bench. I do not know if I'm even meant to sign my own fate, but it no longer matters to me. My conscience heavy, I reach to my side and release myself into the mercy of the one whom I know can.

Outside
  I watched him march to the platform through eyes whose tears had run dry. I wished they had not, for they may have distorted my sight enough to hide this image from me. To watch this is assuredly as painful as it is to live it. Still, I could not turn away; to turn away, I felt, would be betrayal. So I watched as he was forced down and tied to the horrid contraption that would end his life. His lips were moving, but I could not hear his words over the crowd.
  I watched it fall, and I fell with it.