"You'll go home, Jonathan. Where you belong. I won't be seeing you anymore."
"I know, sir. I know."
The patients eyes close and his breathing begins to slow until it stops entirely. Dr. Thorne walks back across the room and checks the machine attached to the man on the table. He writes down numbers on his chart. He turns to his patient, his favorite patient, checking his pulse and breathing. There is no pulse, no breathing. Dr. Thorne slowly takes out the IV from the man's arm. Looking back at the man, once a boy, now dead, one more time, he reads the file. At the top of the page in big black industrial letters is the name Jonathan T. Carver. Next to it is a picture of a boy, around the age of fourteen, whose eyes match the eyes of the dead man on the table. Underneath the picture written so long ago the ink has faded are the words 'GUILTY; FIRST DEGREE MURDER'. Underneath that in red ink, newer, not faded, are the words 'SENTENCED TO DEATH BY LETHAL INJECTION'. Dr. Thorne recognizes these orders to be in his own handwriting. He looks back at the man on the table and sets down his file. Underneath the file falls the slides of ink. He picks them up and with a long stare asks himself what he sees.
" A butterfly, a house, three boys leaning up against a car."
No matter how hard he tries to see anything else he can not. He just keeps on repeating.
" A butterfly, a house, three boys leaning up against a car. A butterfly, a house, three boys leaning up against a car. A butterfly, a house, three boys leaning up against a car."
"I know, sir. I know."
The patients eyes close and his breathing begins to slow until it stops entirely. Dr. Thorne walks back across the room and checks the machine attached to the man on the table. He writes down numbers on his chart. He turns to his patient, his favorite patient, checking his pulse and breathing. There is no pulse, no breathing. Dr. Thorne slowly takes out the IV from the man's arm. Looking back at the man, once a boy, now dead, one more time, he reads the file. At the top of the page in big black industrial letters is the name Jonathan T. Carver. Next to it is a picture of a boy, around the age of fourteen, whose eyes match the eyes of the dead man on the table. Underneath the picture written so long ago the ink has faded are the words 'GUILTY; FIRST DEGREE MURDER'. Underneath that in red ink, newer, not faded, are the words 'SENTENCED TO DEATH BY LETHAL INJECTION'. Dr. Thorne recognizes these orders to be in his own handwriting. He looks back at the man on the table and sets down his file. Underneath the file falls the slides of ink. He picks them up and with a long stare asks himself what he sees.
" A butterfly, a house, three boys leaning up against a car."
No matter how hard he tries to see anything else he can not. He just keeps on repeating.
" A butterfly, a house, three boys leaning up against a car. A butterfly, a house, three boys leaning up against a car. A butterfly, a house, three boys leaning up against a car."
