The August 8th Dinner

Beginning

Jacqueline Chase sat in her cell, hunched over a bundle of papers. Hers was a special prison cell with a bed far more comfortable than a regular one, a separate toilet, with a set of table and chair. Indeed, prisoners sentenced to death were afforded more amenities than regular prisoners who were released in a year or so. A privilege that struck Jacqueline as ironic, as were the bouquets of flowers delivered at funerals. Didn't people need those flowers more while they were alive than when they were dead? Was death the only time for humans to show kindness and sympathy?

Jacqueline smiled sarcastically at the thought, as she continued to write with her pen. She had written so much over the past few days, some forty pages full of everything she could glean from her life's memories. Perhaps more than memories of her life, these writings contained all the deceptions she had experienced and the mistakes she had made. She had given up hope for justice, but she hoped that her lamentations and heartbreak would be read by the closest to her. The only person she could trust right now.

“Jackie,” a female guard called from outside the bars. “It’s time.”

Jacqueline smiled sadly. “Would you wait a little longer? Just five minutes?”

The female guard nodded. “Okay.”

They both fell silent again. Only the scratching of a pen broke the three-minute silence. Then, the sound of a chair shifting was heard. The guard turned. Jackie walked toward her determinedly and handed the bundle of papers to the guard.

“I have a favor to ask of you, a final favor.” Jackie handed the papers over. “Would you mind giving these to a friend of mine? His name is on the front page.”

The warden glanced at the name on the top sheet. “Very well. But I still need to obtain official permission from Senior Chief Inspector Reginald Ross to grant your request. Don’t worry,” the warden added hastily, “I’m sure Sir Ross will grant your request.”

Jackie nodded and followed the female warden. Two other men joined them on their way to the execution site. The two male wardens were apparently waiting near the outer wall, out of Jackie’s sight. As the group turned left into a long hallway, the large police chief, who had initially appeared to be conversing with a subordinate, broke away and joined them. Jackie could hear the female warden whispering to him, which he returned with a nod. It seemed Jackie’s request had been granted.

As the group progressed through the hallway, the silence, coldness, and despair began to overwhelm Jackie. Her throat was completely dry. Not a hint of sadness crossed her mind, not even a tear. The group entered a door that led to a small room, with two other doors on the opposite side.

“Come on,” the female guard said, “We have to check you first, for weapons.”

Jackie stared at the woman for a moment, then answered hoarsely, “You know I don’t have anything to attack with.”

“I know,” she replied sympathetically. “It’s just a formality.”

Jackie glanced briefly at the other guard, who was just as compassionate as the female guard. The police chief, meanwhile, was listening to the conversation indifferently.

“Inspector Ross,” Jackie called out to the police chief, wanting to confirm, “Is… is my request to deliver a message to my friend… granted?”

The one called Inspector Ross sighed nonchalantly. “Yes, yes, I’ll give your note to your friend.”

Jackie lowered her head. “Thank you.”

The female guard’s hand touched Jackie’s shoulder once more, leading her to one of the doors on the side of the room. When the door opened, a small room appeared—an examination room. There, Jackie would be stripped of her clothes and subjected to a full body search.

The examination didn’t last long. Once they returned to the main room, the group entered another door on the side of the room.

The door to the execution chamber.

The room was divided into two sections, separated by a one-way mirror. The first section, on the right, housed vital signs monitors and a heart rate monitor. All the devices, each measuring over seventeen inches, were connected via cables that extended to the second section on the left, which housed a single object—a thin bed with edges shaped like the human body. There were extended sections on either side for armrests. Nearly every corner of the bed were belts and electrode sensors.

Jackie was laid there by a female guard. The two guards then secured the belt around Jackie's body, while the electrodes were placed directly over her heart. Before everyone left the room, the guard gently touched Jackie's arm, reassuringly, and Jackie nodded in response.

A man in a medical gown entered Jackie's bed. Jackie steeled himself. She closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Air she hadn't appreciated until she finally experienced the final moment of enjoying it.

Jackie had been told that there would be three injections. The first injection was anesthetic, the second a paralytic, and the third a cardiac arrester. So before she died, she would have lost consciousness from the first injection. The medic felt Jackie's arm for the location of the intravenous line. A moment later, he placed the injection where he had marked with his thumb, and Jackie knew it was her last moment. The last moment she took a breath she had already given up.

Slowly, the pain of the fluid penetrating her skin stormed Jackie.’s body As the fluid continued to enter blood, her mind was churning with thoughts. Whatever fate she had received, this was not the ending she wanted. Who in this world wants the death penalty? No one. After all, this wasn't her fault. She was simply the victim of investigative negligence and legal blind spots, and both had to have loopholes. She was annoyed with the judge and the police, but she was even more annoyed and angry with her defense attorney.

The lawyer could have tried to consider about those minor irregularities she felt, but he seemed to ignore them. If only her lawyer had insisted on investigating her testimony first.

Just because he didn't want to tarnish his image, Jackie was furious.

And ah, of course that man could not be forgotten as the origin of all this.

Yes, that man. The hellish man who had started her life's hell. Jackie didn't know if karma really existed or not, but if she had the chance, Jackie really wanted to be the one to make that man feel her suffering, or even worse than she felt.

In that sudden rage, Jackie began to feel the effects of the anesthetic. From a distance, she could hear the regular rhyming sound of the heart rate monitor. The noise in her brain began to diminish, replaced by the faint flickers of her memory that continued to swirl... Maybe because she had just poured her memories onto paper - all the memories she had since that date.

***

August 8, 2022.

My name is Jacqueline Chase, a programmer at a well-known technology company, with a pretty good position, and today I promised to go home with Roger Wright, my boyfriend, like every other day.

If you're wondering why we were going home together, it's because we work for the same company. Roger and I actually have the same position—engineering manager—but we're on different teams, due to the large number of clients we handle who entrust their technology needs to our company, BlueMan Ltd. We didn't earn those positions with minimal effort. Roger and I are both highly skilled programmers and have been appointed to lead temporary teams several times before finally becoming permanent.

That afternoon, Roger asked me to wait for him in the lobby downstairs. This was unusual, as the corner near the elevator doors was actually our favorite meeting spot. I sat on a soft brown sofa in the spacious lobby, making small talk with the receptionist and security guard. Several of my subordinates had already left the office, as had my superiors. I checked my phone again and again for no reason. There was really no reason to call Roger or wait for his text message. It was home time, and even without a call, he'd be down soon. Roger wouldn't have asked me to wait if he had something important to do or was working overtime.

A soft metal scraping sound accompanied by a soft clink came from the elevator opening. Roger and Bryce—the other team manager—stepped out of the elevator, chatting in low voices. Bryce and I met immediately, accompanied by a friendly smile from Bryce. Roger turned his head too.

Ah, there he is, my handsome brown-haired prince. My Flynn Rider. Well, even if my blonde hair isn't as long as Rapunzel's.

Roger jogged over, followed by Bryce.

"Hi, has it been long?" Roger asked with his usual charming smile.

"Not yet," I replied curtly. I was nervous about using lovey-dovey words around anyone, even Bryce. "Hi, Bryce!"

"Hi, Jackie!" Bryce replied cheerfully. "How's work going? Going well?"

"Yeah, trying my best," I replied with a stoic smile. It signaled the pressure building on my shoulders, but I couldn't say it out loud because we were still in office.

Roger, Bryce, and I, along with several other engineering managers, have had a special bond for the past two years. We were recruited together, working as casual employees and gossiped about by our seniors and staff for several years, before finally being promoted to our current positions one by one at almost the same time.

"Well, then I won't interrupt this couple's quality time. Bye," Bryce said as quickly as possible. He then left through the exit.

"Where are we going?" I asked immediately, picking up my phone. "You said in the chat that you were going to take me somewhere?"

"That's right," Roger smiled at me, once his attention was no longer on the hurried Bryce.

“Eat?”

“Yes! One hundred for my Jackie!”

I scowled in disappointment. “But we always go to a restaurant when we go home together,” I demanded. “What’s the difference?”

“Just come with me,” Roger chuckled mischievously as he led me to his parking spot. “You’ll find out soon enough, honey.”