Sometimes, the difference between life and death is measured not in years—but in seconds, trust, and truth.
Prompt
The clock struck midnight, each tick carving another line into his heartbeat.
He sat on the cold concrete, staring at the barred window where moonlight sliced through the air like a knife. In less than an hour, the warden would come for him. The guards avoided his eyes now—they’d all heard the same rumors. He was innocent. But innocence meant nothing without proof, and proof was out there in the trembling hands of his best friend, Ryan, who had sworn he’d return before dawn with the evidence that could set him free. The air felt heavy with betrayal and hope entwined. He replayed their last conversation over and over, searching for any hint of doubt. Would Ryan risk everything to save him? Or had fear won? Each second stretched like a lifetime as the ticking clock became the loudest sound in the world.
Question for readers:
If you had one hour left to live, who would you trust to save you—and would they make it in time?