[ WP ] A man wakes up disheveled and confused laying in a rundown hospital with a million thoughts going through his mind ... But one thought in particular peeks his interest the most : `` What happened after my execution ? ''

His first thought before he opened his eyes was the itch in his beard that he could not scratch. The steel rails rattled against the bedside and the straps on his wrists tightened as he tried to raise his arms. The muscles inside his legs burned with battery acid. His mouth tasted of dirty steel and he could smell it when he breathed. The lamp above his head was close enough to make out the hissing from the filaments. The light from the bulb fought through his eyelids and colored their insides pink and what little opening he allowed felt like bleach coming through the nozzle of a pressure washer. He tucked his chin into his shoulder joint and rubbed the spot in his beard back and forth until the itch was gone and the next thought that went through his head was how come he was n't dead. 
 
 A pair of footsteps moved on the slick hallway floor and turned and squeaked as they entered through the doorway. The man in the bed stopped fidgeting and waited to hear a voice. He was not ready to test his eyes again. 
 
 The footsteps drew closer. He could hear the scratching of a pen to paper on a plastic clipboard. He felt a body lean over him. 
 
 `` Sounds like you're finally awake,'' the voice said. 
 
 `` Where the hell am I?'' said the man. 
 
 `` You're in a hospital. You've been here quite a long time. We were wondering if you'd ever come out of it.'' 
 
 `` Are you a doctor?'' 
 
 `` I'm the attending physician on staff, yes.'' 
 
 `` What's wrong with my eyes, doc?'' 
 
 `` Your eyes?'' 
 
 `` They're burning. I ca n't open them.'' 
 
 `` That's because you have n't used them in three weeks,'' the doctor said. `` They're going to be very sensitive until you can adjust. I can dim the lights.'' 
 
 The man moved his body on the bed and his arms shook the posts they were tied to. He waited for the doctor to tell him but the doctor continued writing on his clipboard and had already forgotten to adjust the lights. The man sighed heavily and finally said, `` Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?'' 
 
 `` Ah, yes,'' the doctor said. `` I'm sure you have quite a few questions. I'll be happy to tell you all about it.'' 
 
 And the doctor did tell him all about it. About the lethal injection and how his body refused to accept it. And how they kept at it, dialing up the dosage and checking the IV lines and waiting for his body to just die already goddammit and when it would n't die and instead continued convulsing on the table they signaled with their thumbs to do it up more. Twice the amount this time. And how he bled through his ears and his nose and how after 45 minutes the doctor at the prison had to run in and beg them to stop. And how he was rushed to the hospital and how his veins were clogged with enough potassium chloride to kill an entire prison block. And how the doctors at the hospital, instead of letting him die like he was sentenced to that night, kept at him and brought him back to life and said things like, `` This here might be the toughest son of a bitch I've ever laid eyes on.'' And then how they revived him and refused to let him go back to prison and kept him in observation for the last 17 days. 
 
 When he was finished telling the story, the doctor added, `` There's quite a gathering of people that have been waiting to see you.'' 
 
 `` People?'' the man said. 
 
 `` Yes. Family. Friends. Your kids are here. They're just down the hall. Your wife has been in this room next to you as much as much as we would allow her.'' 
 
 His wife and kids. The man let those words sink in and soak through his brain. He had n't seen his wife in over five years. And the kids he could hardly remember their faces anymore. She stopped bringing them two years before she stopped coming altogether. He could still hear the tone in her voice, in those final words to him years ago. The words that broke his heart into a thousand pieces and made him ache with pain every day since: `` I never want to see you again. We're moving on from you. I've found the kids a new daddy.'' 
 
 His eyelids were still shut and now filled with tears that gathered along the lashes. He dried them one at a time into each shoulder they could reach. He lay motionless on the bed, unsure of what to say to the doctor. 
 
 `` Would you like me to bring them in?'' the doctor asked. 
 
 `` Yes,'' the man said as he slowly opened his eyes. 
 
 And in they came. A line formed at the door as they each waited one at a time. His wife was the first to see him. She ran in with her face shooting tears all over the ground at her feet and the first thing she said was that she loved him and that she was sorry. And then she kissed him and it lasted so long he had to pull back just to breathe. The kids came in next. They jumped onto the bed and into his arms and their faces before they buried them into his chest looked more beautiful than he had ever dreamed. He told them he loved them and when they said it back he could feel his heart almost melt through his chest. His mother walked in next. She was with the father neither of them had seen since he was a small child. They came hand in hand and all three said I love you at once. And then his best friends and all his old schoolmates and the teachers that used to call him trouble. And his grandfather with his wife. And all the nurses who saved him. And with each new body that entered the room his heart swelled bigger and fuller and the salt from his tears burned his eyes but he refused to close them. 
 
 And then the lamp overhead finally went dark and the arms at his side in the nylon straps fell limp. And the potassium chloride that passed through his veins reached his heart and made it stop. And the prison guard gave the signal and the doctor behind the glass scribbled *cardiac arrest* on his clipboard. The man's eyes drifted to the back of his head but the eyelids moved one last time. They fluttered like the wings on a bird. 
 

