Jamie P.O.V

After many more drinks, I realize that I am completely drunk. I pay for my drinks and exit the speakeasy. My attempt to look sober doesn't exactly go well, but all I have to do is get home. Luckily that isn't very far.

I walk down the street as normally as I possibly can. There's no one out at this hour, but it's still a precaution. I don't want to be noticed at all.

As I walk down the street I hear the faint sound of rustling. I shrug it off as an animal until I hear a small whisper from one of the alleys near me.

"Aye kid, this way's faster," a familiar voice says.

Unfortunately, my intoxicated brain cannot determine where I have heard this voice before, but I know I have. It's deep and kind of gravelly.

"No, I'm just," I stop for a moment, "going home."

I go to start walking again when two strong arms snatch me back and into the alley. I try to struggle, but my mind is so drunk that none of my limbs want to function exactly how I want them to.

"You're not going nowhere," he says again, making me realize that this isn't just someone trying to rob me of anything valuable.

This is Elizabeth's father. Her father is mad at me and has me in a choke hold where no one can see me. This is not going to end well, for me at least.

With a quick whistle, three other men enter the alley. Now I'm certain that this will not end well for me. It's the strong Mafia men against one weak drunk. A drunk never wins.

One by one they all have a turn with me. Punches were thrown at my face and kicks aimed at my ribs. All while they yell and curse at me for liking men instead of Elizabeth. Eventually, I'm so beat up that I can't make out what they're saying. I don't even bother fighting back.

I spit out a good amount of blood as it collects in my mouth. Then another blow to my stomach comes loud and clear, sending a lot of alcohol back the way it came in. They laugh about doing this to me as if it's some sort of sick game.

'These sick bastards think this is funny. They're beating me because I'm gay and don't want to marry Elizabeth. She can marry who she wants. I forgive her for telling her father that I'm homosexual because knowing her she revealed it on accident. This is not her fault. They are choosing to handle the situation in an immature manner.'

I cannot manage to even sit up anymore. I take their kicks to my stomach, back, and chest. There is nothing I can do to fight back. I am helpless and I know that. Nothing I can say or do will help me out of this situation. They're going to beat me until they decide that I've learned a lesson.

After a break of a few moments, I am thrown out of the alley by the strong men. I groan out in pain and I want to curl up in a ball, but I know I can't. They would most likely just beat me more if I did that.

"Get up," Lizzy's father commands.

I try and fail to stand. My ribs ache and my stomach feels like it has burst within my body. I cannot manage to do such a simple task.

"Get up!" he yells while kicking me in the head.

Such a blow to the head will not help me in any way. That's what he does not realize. That will only make my abilities worsen.

He pulls me up and pushes me forward. I grab onto the corner of a building to steady myself before they continue to push me. I walk with a limp from all the damage done to me in just the past few minutes. I cannot do anything about the excruciating pain that is making my entire body throb.

They tell me to head in the direction of my home. I do as they say and we soon reach my house. I'm not sure what they're planning, but I want to figure it out.

I am thrown on my bed and tied to the headboard. My drunken mind doesn't know what to think.

"I think he's got enough liquor on 'em to get the job done. If not then it's slower and more painful," one of the men says, starting a conversation about something that I cannot decode in this state.

"Yeah, that outta' do it," another replies.

Before I know what's happening one of them lights a match. This is the moment when I realize that this is not going to have a good ending. This is my ending. Burning alive is the way I will die.

He drops the match on my pant leg and I feel it start to burn through them slowly. It's not hurting yet, but it's not touching my skin. Then he lights another one and drops it on my chest, making it ignite instantly because of the alcohol.

It burns my chest, making me cry out in pain. They leave the room and leave me to burn. There is nothing I can do to stop this. The flames from my leg have traveled up and my chest is already burning. All I can do is scream.

I figure that I've been locked in and that there is no point in even trying to call for help. They most likely locked every door on their way out. I am going to die here.

I scream out in agony as I burn. It is the worst feeling that I could ever imagine times ten. The smell of burning flesh is enough to make me sick.

'This is my fate. This is how I die.'

Eventually, the pain stops and now I'm just burning. I cannot breathe and can hardly think straight. I realize that this is it. I am going to die and that is inevitable.

'Goodbye to this world. I've had a good life. Perhaps I'll have an even better one next time.'