Beauty of a Hanged Man

Chapter 1

The day of reckoning drew near, we had known. 

I hated to see him sit so anxiously; to cry. He didn't want to go through this, and I told him he wouldn't have to if he'd run away; if he'd come with me. 

"I'm not a coward," he claimed. Perhaps he didn't see the way his lip quivered, and how he brokenly sobbed at the thought of his own downfall. I'm certain that if he did, he'd most definitely give in and most definitely see that we have a chance to run; to hide. He could leave. 

We could continue together like I had so many times promised him.

He refused each plead, each begging offer.

No matter how much I wanted him to... he wouldn't run away with me. 

He promised that we'd be together; that we'd make it though the war by each other's side; that it'd be us. 

He lied. 

The moment that I want him to, for once, finally back down, finally realize that it's sometimes best to leave, he decides that facing his own fate would be the best idea. 

Why did it have to be him? I could have easily faced the same fate. Would he have cared?

...

It would suppose it's too late for questions. 

For now I stand nearby, he is no longer by my side.

They took him, and bound his wrists. The gallows ahead seemed to hold heavy, the rope slowly swaying in the breeze.  Soon, his soft neck would be strung tightly in that rope, and he'd be fighting to get a breath.

I pleaded so many times for Washington to do something before they took an unnecessary life, only for the man to do nothing. "They caught him with stone proof. You can't rescue someone who was bound to be slaughtered." 

Foolish man.

I couldn't grasp the concept, it seemed. 

Because now I had to watch the man I love be pushed towards his fate. 

Fifteen steps to the gallows, and thirteen knots in the hangman's noose. 

Oh, each step must seem so agonizing. 

For now he was in view, and he seemed tense. Eyes on the ground, face pale, his blonde hair draping over his shoulder. Two men escorted him along. 

God, he must've been so scared.

One step, two step, three...

Why wasn't it me?

Four step, five step, six...

Not one damn thing clicks.

Seven steps, eight steps, nine...

There's not one damn thing in my mind.

Ten steps, eleven steps, twelve...

Damn them all to Hell.

Thirteen steps, fourteen steps, fifteen.

There's no getting between...

And now he stood so proudly as they fixed the noose around his neck. His eyes showed no fear, and his smile flashed with simplicity.

Was he no longer afraid...?

Though, as the many men walked around him, they seemed to draw in his anxiety; his fearful behavior. Their words probably rang through his mind like they did my own...

"On the account of trial, Benjamin Tallmadge will be facing penalty as a captured spy. He is to be executed. Death by hanging." The man in charge declared. God, I couldn't stand this.  

I watched as his stern expression now quivered and faltered; it was clear what was happening. It finally kicked in; the realization that he was going to die, that this was the end of it. I knew he was afraid; his blue eyes seemed to swell with tears as he shot a glance towards me. I felt my own body tense as they announced his crimes, announced his fate further. 

That soft glance now felt haunting.

This would be the last time I would see my Benny alive. And it's a shame he had to stand there, noose tight around his neck, and he had to watch as I tried not to let my composure break. I didn't want to look anymore, but then the lever was pulled, and his body dropped. I covered my mouth, and turned away. I couldn't bear to see him die like this.

Yet the strangled screams, and the gasps for air, it all made me sick, and I turned to look at him. He kicked, trying to get something more that air beneath his feet. It's like watching an animal that was shot fight for life.

Only this time... It was Benjamin. 

 I wanted to run forward, I would risk my life for him if I could, I'd do what I could to ensure his survival.  

But, watching his face turn blue, I knew there was very little that I could try that would help. He was too far gone. I could only watch, tears warm against my skin.

Ben finally quit fighting, and his head bowed.

He was gone.

I shook, staring to the ground. There was no reason for him to die, there was so much ahead for him. He had everything ahead of him!

We... had everything ahead of us.

But now he's gone.

...

I had stayed hours after the hanging, sitting on the ground, thinking about what once was. His body still hung overhead, his face still blue, his lips still pale.

No one had bothered to cut him down, or at least cover his face before hanging. 

And they left him here.

The disrespect these men have. 

But, I'm staring at this lifeless corpse, and I know, I know so well, how he would be if he was alive right now. He'd be sitting beside me, head on my shoulder, laughing about the days events. He'd be sitting here, tears of joy rolling down his face. 

He'd be here.

But still, he hung in the light of the evening. The mix of orange and red seemed to bring color back to his face. It felt almost as if he was alive. 

He still looked as beautiful as he did. Long, curved lashes; beautiful, blonde hair flowing easily over his shoulder; a tight smile that he wore so often.

Moving forward, I reach up, finally running a hand along his cold skin, easily tracing out his jawline, his cheek structure, his lips. Everything felt cold, chapped, and lifeless.

Finally, my lip quivered, and I bowed my head, clutching his body tightly, burying my face into his lifeless form. I couldn't handle this anymore...

Screaming sobs tore through my chest, and they echoed around me. I silenced almost everything that had been around. 

Not even a cricket would chirp.

How is it, that even in death, he was beautiful?

How is it, that I stand here, wishing that he could be with me right now?

Why is it, that I find myself the one held responsible for his fate?

Why is it, that I am lost now that he is no longer here?

I know there's no one out there he could answer my questions to any full extant, but one thought remained...

That this was the beauty of a hanged man.