• A sliver of light slashes through my deep slumber. I sigh and roll away from the unfriendly brightness, but it is no use. I am awake now and have no chance of returning to peaceful unconsciousness. I slowly get out of bed, mentally saying good-bye. I walk to the window. The shutters are cracked, which let in the light that woke me up. I throw open the shutters and stare at the sky. The day has dawned bright and clear. I laugh that the day of our reckoning has dawned so.

    I walk to the chest where I keep my valuables. My best clothes and the only jewelry I own are in this chest. I get them out and put them on. The silk feels smoother than it has ever felt before and the metal jewelry is like ice. The knowledge that this is my last day has heightened all my senses. Everything is sharper, clearer, more intense than ever before. The air I’m breathing is the purest air I have experienced. I can feel its coolness filling my lungs with every breath. The familiar colors of my home are brighter today and have more depth and nuances than I have seen before. It’s as if my body, knowing that it will soon be no more, is trying to fit as much life as possible into a few hours.

    I stand with my eyes closed for a minute, enjoying being alive. Then I grab my belt purse full of money and a bottle of blackberry wine and head towards town.

    My fellow leaders in the rebellion and I decided what to do when we found out we had been betrayed. A member of the rebellion needed the reward money. He had been a high-ranking officer in the rebel army. We wanted to help him with his financial problem, but we simply didn’t have any money to spare. And believe me, we weren’t just being stingy. If we had had a tiny bit less money, our soldiers would have starved. However, he couldn’t believe that we were unable to help him. He turned in the names of all the leaders and high ranking members of the rebellion for the reward money. I can’t bring myself to hate him though. Don’t get me wrong; I am angry, sad, and hurt, but I don’t hate him. His wife, whom he loved more than his life, was sick and dying. He needed money to save her. Also, we all knew the risks of rebelling and were prepared to face the consequences. Anyways, when we found out what he had done, we realized we couldn’t escape, so we decided to go out in style.

    As I walk to town, I mull over my life, especially the decisions I made concerning the rebellion. I’ve been independently-minded all my life and I’ve made a lot of hard decisions. Even now I don’t know if I’ve always made the right choices. Past conflicts and arguments come to my mind and I still can’t tell if my motives were always pure. As the houses of the town surround me, I decide that whether or not my decisions were all good ones, I can’t change them now. For better or worse I’ve made my choices. I have no regrets.

    I see a few of the leaders walking into town as well. We are all heading for this town’s most famous shop: the crystal shop. I walk up to the shop with my head held high. Following out plan, I stride into the shop and look around for a wine glass. One catches my eye. It is simple and elegant. The crystal is clear and sparkles in the sun. It’s perfect. I buy it, all but emptying my belt purse, and walk outside.

    All of us betrayed rebels make a circle in the town square. We fill the beautiful, expensive, crystal goblets we had just bought with the drink of our choice that we brought with us. We gently se the bottles behind us, leaving them for the townspeople to enjoy if they wish. We toast each other silently. Some act arrogant, some are cocky, some uncaring, some grim. I try to look calm and unapologetic. We drain our glasses. The taste of blackberries, dark, smooth, and somehow tasting sad, explodes on my tongue. Then we smash the gorgeous crystal vessels into the center of the circle.

    A large crowd of townspeople has gathered. A number of people look at us scornfully, glad that the rebellion is done. Some, however, have sadness and pity in their eyes. Everyone in out circle makes an about face, so we are facing the towns people. As one, we bow to the people. We then make a line, standing our ground fearlessly, facing the soldiers coming for us.