The prison warden is asking Osborne if he wants to make any last remarks. No, he shakes his head. He's already rejected a sedative to relax him before the lethal injection and has refused to eat his last meal, a cheeseburger plate. Once again, he is defiant to the end.
The warden hardly pauses.
A last prayer? Yes, Osborne nods.
The chaplain then starts speaking softly, asks God to 'favour' Osborne, who is squeezing his eyes shut. As the prayer nears its end, Osborne mouths a few silent words, perhaps his own goodbye. The chaplain squeezes his arm one last time.
At 8.51pm, the lethal injection begins to course through his veins, a concoction of three drugs that's used in succession as an anesthetic, a muscle paralyser and then a substance to stop his heart.
Osborne's eyes appear to be welling up with tears. He looks firmly at the ceiling, blinks occasionally. After a few minutes, his eyes begin to close. His breathing slows. His body is looking more relaxed, or as relaxed as it could be strapped to a gurney.
Once more, he opens his eyes, staring ahead. He suddenly takes a deep gasp, as if he is yawning.
For a few minutes, there is nothing. The witnesses are perfectly still. Then, his eyes seem to inch open and his lips seem to purse ever so slightly.
He goes quietly.
Two doctors arrive to inspect Osborne, taking turns checking his pulse. They nod at each other.
The time of death was 9.05pm. The curtain was pulled closed, the viewing chamber emptied.
And the story was over.
This is the true life account of a journalist who witnessed the execution of a convicted murderer, who goes by the name of Osbourne.
Something stirred within me as I read that account.
Isn't it funny? This guy was convicted of murder and sentenced to death..I cant even imagine what he must be thinking as he lay down on that tray, awaiting the prick of needle that will bring him to eternal sleep..brings a whole new meaning to "the prick of death" huh?
As he lay down there, not knowing when the doctors are going to come in with that syringe filled with poison, I wondered what he must be feeling.
Scared? Confused? Remorse? Unafraid?
Can someone actually be unafraid when staring Death in the eye, watching Death grinning from ear to ear cause he is just standing right there, waiting for the time to drag your soul away?
And isnt it funny about the choices he made? He refused to make his last words, he refused the sedative, he refused his last meal. But he didnt refuse the prayer.
Why didnt he refuse the prayer? He refused everything before, but why not the prayer?
Did he realise something while lying on his deathbed? Did he finally realise, that the physical things didnt matter anymore, because he wun be in the physical world in a while..Did he understood that now, only the spiritual things matter..maybe that last prayer would somehow save his soul from hell..maybe that last prayer could calm his fear..
What did he mumble nearing the end of his prayer? Did he feel remorse for his deeds? Did he asked God to forgive his sin-stricken soul?
How did he feel when that needle finally broke into his vein? Was he afraid when the poison begin following in his blood? Or was he at peace? Did he thought of heaven and hell? Did he thought of his family?
During the 15 mins as that poison wrecks destruction in his body, what was he thinking? Did he know where he was going to after he dies?
But the one thing that intrigues me the most..Why did he not refuse the prayer?
If a dying man realises that a prayer is much more important than last words, a sedative to make his death easier, and a last meal for his favourite dish, then shouldnt we the living grasp the significance of prayer more in our lives?
If that dying man understood that at that point in time, only God could save his soul, then shouldnt we the living cherish our salvation even more?
Why must we face death to understand that in the end, it is God, and only God, who really matters.
