It had been almost a month since Chelsea was thrown into a prison cell.
She refused to eat on most days, the coopers never forced her, they didn't care enough for that. Chelsea ate when she felt was necessary, when she knew her body needed it most.
She had lost a significant amount of weight, her hair fell out in chunks and her eyes were sunken into her face.
The gate to her cell opened. Chelsea looked up, she was expecting them to begin searching her or throw food at her, but instead, they simply stared.
"Up." said one of the women, "It's time. Up."
Chelsea got to her feet and shook her head, "No. No. It can't be. You-what-no. Not we have a few more months-"
The women grabbed her arms and dragged her out her cell, having to drag her back to her feet when she lost her balance.
They guided her down a few steps and into a dimly lit room.
Chelsea looked ahead and saw a small platform in the centre, a rope hanging down from the centre, a loop waiting for Chelsea's head.
They dragged her up the stairs and placed her in front of the rope.
One priest stood ahead of Chelsea, uttering words or prayer but Chelsea didn't care for them. God couldn't save her now.
Chelsea's head was forced through the hole and she felt the rope tighten around her neck.
As Chelsea stood there, her whole life flashed before her eyes. Every single bad and good memory she had ever been through.
And in that very moment, when Chelsea was inches away from her death, she wanted to live.
For the first time in a long time, Chelsea wanted to be alive. To breathe in oxygen. To experince hurt, happiness, pain and love. She wanted all the bad and good parts of life.
Chelsea closed her eyes, "I'm coming mom." she whispered, "I'll see you soon."
Chelsea heard the woman grip onto the lever that was connected to the rope and heard the slightest snap of the wood as he began to drag it forward.
"Wait!"
Chelsea's eyes shot open and saw a man running forward, holding a paper slip above his head.
Chelsea didn't exactly know what was going on but she knew that she wasn't going to die when she was pulled back from the rope.
Her knees collapsed against the floor and Chelsea cried out, feeling the wooden tiles beneath her.
Thankful for her life. Thankful that she was alive in this fucked up world.
Chelsea returned home, packed her things from her room and said her goodbyes to Charles. She cried a lot, hugged him more than ever and promised to call him every single night but she knew it was for the best.
Isaiah packed his things and put them in the trunk of his car, then taking Chelsea's luggage and packing that too.
"Take this." said Tommy, handing a sum of money into his daughter's hand, "Don't argue. Just incase you need some extra cash."
"I don't want your money." Chelsea sighed, "Dad, are you going to be all right?"
"I'm always all right." Tommy shrugged.
"I'm being serious." Chelsea said, her and her father didn't exactly have the best relationship but she still cared for him, "Are you going to be alright without me here?"
"Think i'll be better off, actually. I'll finally be able to chuck all of those lipsticks of yours." Tommy joked, smiling when he saw his daughter crack a small smile.
"Shut up," Chelsea laughed, "You love me."
Tommy nodded, the image of an eleven year old Chelsea sat across his lap in the Garrison after taking a bullet for him.
"And you know it." said Tommy, reaching his hand out and running his thumb across Chelsea's cheek, he saw the look on Chelsea's face and she had remembered two.
Chelsea nodded and kissed her dad quickly on the cheek, "Don't let Charles forget me. And don't get too drunk. Don't let Mary overwork. Keep the horses clean."
"I know." Tommy nodded, "I know."
With one last awkward nod, Chelsea turned away and headed back for the car. She climbed into the passenger seat.
"Are you okay?" Isaiah asked, resting his hand upon Chelsea's thigh, "Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Yes." Chelsea responded, looking out the window and seeing her dad turning around and heading back to the house, "We need to get out. We need to leave."