Free Oscar by Unknown Page A

thinking only of her impending execution. There was a certain irony to her situation: today was the day that she turned forty, and today was to be the day of her death.
    Her peace had been interrupted by the sound of the ear-piercing time siren screeching through the compound—a warning for the inmates to get up or face punishment at the hands of the guards.
    She had no need to rush; she knew what time she would be taken away from the camp. She remained on her back with her right arm placed across her forehead, just waiting for the solid oak door to the Nissen hut to burst open. The guards would take her to London, for what would be the last day of her life.
    A few minutes passed, the siren ceased, and her peace was shattered yet again. The guards had come.
    ‘Get up, Scarsberg.’ one of the guards snapped.
    She stood from her metal slatted bunk and remained still, almost standing to attention.
    ‘Put your hands on your head, and place your forehead against the wall.’
    She walked over to the adjacent wall slowly and did as she was told.
    ‘Spread your legs.’ was the final demand.
    She complied.
    The guard approached her and took hold of her hands, pulling them behind her back. He cuffed her wrists and pulled her close to him roughly.
    ‘Happy birthday, Scarsberg. We have a hell of a day lined up for you.’ he whispered unkindly, biting the tip of her earlobe in a perverted manner, just before pulling away.
    #
    Miriam’s tussled platinum blonde hair gleamed in the morning sun. For a split second she felt free as the cool breeze hit her face. She took a deep breath, and held on to it for as long as possible before exhaling.
    The moment was ruined as the guards either side of her began to pull her violently towards the awaiting black transit. For once, she was frightened of what lay in store for her. She began to pull away from the van, digging her heels in.
    ‘It’s no use struggling, Scarsberg.’ The guard on her right side barked, as he signalled over another colleague who was waiting by the van. ‘Get over here, and get ready to lift her legs.’
    The idle guard ran towards the group of three with another set of restraints—ankle cuffs. He jogged up behind Miriam, who had been subdued.
    ‘Get them cuffs on, and lift her legs.’ the guard ordered.
    She began to kick like a mule, trying to prevent the guard from doing as he had been ordered. She was quickly forced to the ground face-first, and pinned.
    ‘Try now!’ he barked, digging his bony knee into her spine. She screamed out, half in pain and half in frustration. The ankle restraints were successfully placed, and she made no further attempts to struggle as she was lifted from the ground. She had all but given up and resigned herself to her fate: she wasn’t going to escape the punishment for her crime.
    Tears brimmed in her eyes, and one by one they fell to the ground, making little dents in the sand. It hadn’t gone unnoticed that her emotions were getting the better of her, pushing through her hard exterior.
    ‘You can pack that in for a start.’ one of the guards screamed in her ear. ‘There’ll be plenty of time for crying when you’re burning to death!’ a maniacal cackle ensued.
    ‘Screw you!’ the usually refined, Miriam muttered defiantly under her breath.
    The guard lifted her head with her hair in his fist.
    ‘What was that you said?’ he pinned his ear up against her mouth to receive his reply.
    Almost instinctively, she bit into the guard’s ear and ripped the tip off with her teeth.
    The guard screamed out as he grabbed the side of his head with his free hand.
    ‘Put her down.’ he shrieked in pain. ‘Have we got a muzzle or something? She’s bloody dangerous!’
    #
    It wasn’t so much a muzzle, more a leather face mask. But it would do the trick for the journey to London. The mask was placed on her face, so tight that it hurt.
    The van was within reach, the doors were open and it was ready to receive its