Second Chance
The smell in the room was like rotten eggs. Someone was puking behind me.
His body was strapped in the chair, hands tied behind his back. He screamed about a second chance.
“It’s too late!” Johnny yelled, not looking at him.
No one would go near him.
His bloody head was on the floor. His eyes were opened wide, darting around to each one of us.
He licked his cracked bleeding lips, not sure what was going on.
“Help me!” Blood poured out of his mouth.
I walked toward him, put my boot on his head, and stepped down hard.