I was a robber, but not just a typical thief. My partner and I became notorious for the terror that we exacted on the people of Jerusalem and the surrounding areas. We prided ourselves for escaping capture for so long. I held great disdain for the law and for the people and I actually enjoyed terrorizing the people. It made me feel powerful and invincible.
However, in
the end, my partner and I were caught. The courts tried, convicted and
sentenced us. So hated were we that the sentence was the worst one that they
could possibly give us. Not only was it execution, but it was execution by
crucifixion, the most excruciating kind of death.

I almost did
not care. I hated these people so much, I was almost glad to be taken away from
them. My hatred for these people had grown so much that I also had come to hate my
own life, and even life itself. I was glad to die! I loathed life!
But crucifixion
is not a quick death. It sometimes takes days to die. It is a painful and
prolonged sort of death. The executioners usually whip the condemned one first,
both for the initial pain and also so that they would put deep wounds into his back so that
it chafes against the rough wood of the cross. That is what they did to me.
They were careful not to whip me excessively, because they wanted my misery to
be extended to the crucifixion itself.
Oh, the executioners
knew their business! They knew just how many lashes to give to me to maximize
my suffering for the longest period of time possible.
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