“Ahhhh!” The horrible pain woke me from my coma. I hate to be awake, because that only makes me feel more pain. I want to die, that will be much better than this terrible tortured. Though my sight is dim, I can still tell it is a prison where I am. Why am I here in prison being torture? That question drags my memory to few days ago, when it was nearing the midnight on November 4th, 1605. November 5th, 1605 is named after me, Guy Fawkes, and it’s known as “Guy Fawkes Night”.
The night was dark and quiet. There was no light in this secret chamber under the House of Lords. I was standing beside the only entry of this chamber. Our leader, Robert Catesby plotted an explosion to kill King James the next night. He told me to guard the 36 explosives since other fellow plotters had guarded them days before. So I’m alone here. I nearly fell asleep. I thought it was just a common night guarding the gunpowder like before. There was not going to be any trouble. I sat down, leaning on the wall, falling asleep. But not long, suddenly there was some noise I didn’t expected. I never heard any noise while guarding the explosives before. Since it’s underground and no one except our fellow plotters knew this chamber. I thought it was my snoring, since I was drowsy. But I was now awoke and sober. I had a feeling that the source of the noise wasn’t simple. I felt my fast and strong heartbeat. I had a guess that I hated. Maybe, it was the police. No, impossible, I told myself, there’s no way they could knew the plot. And this adversity would never happen to me. But a little voice in my heart said, “Oh, but it’s true. There is a possibility that the police are coming. Come on, get up and get prepared for it.” I hate that voice, but somehow I knew it was true. I felt my heartbeat get faster, and I suddenly became extremely nervous. I hid at the entry corner. At that time there was no time to think. I saw a stream of light from a flashlight. I heard the footsteps of about 10 people. They wore uniforms, THE POLICE! I had nowhere to hide. Instead of hiding, I ran towards them myself and try to fight them all. If I kept hiding, there was no way to stay hidden from their search. But if I fought them, maybe I could beat them, since I had been in the military for 10 years. Even though I was good at fighting and wrestling, I couldn’t beat up 10 people at once. And they were all trained just like me. I beat the first person up quickly, by pushing him hard into the ground. I wrestled with the second person, and suddenly the others joined the fight, so I was easily taken by them. They tied me up, searched the whole chamber, took the explosives, and then left. They took me out to the ground. Their leader then called a group and ordered them to take me to prison. The last thing I remembered was the group pushing me into a cage, and then I fell in coma from a knock on my head to the ground.
That’s why I’m in prison. I don’t know anything that happened to my fellow plotters and Catesby since that night. I hope they haven’t been caught. But it wasn’t the time to worry about the others. I heard that no matter I claimed, who are the other plotters or not, I will be executed on January of 1606. I’m not sure my opinion or feeling about this bad news. I mean, to get rid of this horrible torture is great, but I don’t want to die yet.
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