The Life I Had

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic
Dalton is a young man whom was accused of murdering seven people. He has lived within the shadows of a past that he claims not to be his, and therefore, declares himself innocent. Now, he is walking towards his death, and while he takes his last breathe, he uncovers the cryptic reality of his life.

Submitted: August 01, 2012

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Submitted: August 01, 2012

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The Li[f]e I Had
By Laura Isabel



I lived in darkness for seven years. When they asked what my last wish was, I said: “Sunlight.” without hesitating.

I’m Dalton, I’m 27 years old, and I have a death sentence for seven murders I didn’t commit. For seven years, I was put in judgment. For seven years, I declared myself innocent. But, of course, no one believed me. Not even my lawyer, who dropped out my case. He said he was afraid of me. He said he saw another person in my eyes whenever he talked to me.


Truth is, I was afraid of myself sometimes. But I knew I hadn’t killed those people. I know who did. My twin brother, whom was psycho since he was a little kid. I always tried to change him, to make him go the right way… but he never listened. Instead, he killed seven people, seven nights in a row.


The last night, I was arriving at my apartment, and he was there. With his last victim; a little girl called Amanda. Her face remained stuck in my mind forever. I saw her, seconds after she died. Right when I entered the room, he shot. We saw each other, then he disappeared. While I stood there, emotionless. In shock.


Then, the police came and I was put into arrest. When I told them it was my twin brother, they looked for him. But they never found a single record with his name. They never found his birth certificate, a picture or a simple clue. Not even print; nothing. It was like he never has existed. It was like I’ve never had a brother. I was an only child to the records. And now, I was responsible for seven murders. They showed me the pictures, the records in lots interrogations I had. And I would always reply that I didn’t know those people.


The first victim was a young musician called Abraham; he was truly promising in music, a very talented violinist. They forced me to watch videos of him playing. I felt a terrible sadness. But I never felt responsible. The second was a soldier, Dave, and he was a true hero; he saved five children in an attack. The third was an actress, Samantha; she was beautiful and talented. Then Brian; the president of his senior class and an athlete. The fifth victim was a veteran, Joey. The sixth was designer called Lilith. And then, there was the seventh; the little girl whose name was Amanda. I was tortured by being forced to see all the photographs. Pictures of seven dead people I didn’t murder.


Oh, I was so angry at him. Anger was a really short word for what I felt towards him. I fantasized those years I was in prison and I thought that if I proved I was innocent, they would let me free, and then, I would find my brother and I was surely going to kill him. At that point, it wouldn’t matter if I’d go to prison again. This time it would be for something I really did. I had the names of my brother’s victims tattooed on my arm. I wanted to remember them, how they were like. For seven years, I was treated like an outlaw. Or worse, like a disease. But I once had a life, before all of this happened, I was a musician. Now I’m just another shadow.

When you’re in prison, you get to have time to think and reflect about your life. But then again, what are your options anyway? I was in no prison. I was in hell. But I got used to it.


Then, seven years later, the sunlight came. I felt alive again. I smiled, because I knew it was going to be my last smile. Then, a police officer walked to me, held my chains, and ordered for me to keep walking. Walking towards my death. I was going to be executed in the electric chair.

I sighed. My thoughts went back to my childhood immediately. My parents fighting, my brother… myself. I looked at my arm, saw the victims’ names. And for a moment, I was petrified. The next second, I was sitting on the chair and I saw my brother right in front of me. I was going to scream, but then I realized it wasn’t him, it was my reflection on the mirror. And suddenly, while my death was still approaching me, I remembered everything. They were right, I never had a brother. It was all a lie I invented, and I believed myself.


I was Dalton, and I was 27 years when I was executed for seven murders I had committed.






© Copyright 2017 lauraisabel. All rights reserved.

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