"Stop shaking the ladder!" Darius whisper-shouted.

"It's not me! This hunk of junk is falling apart." Simon snapped.

Darius groaned. He was right. This rickety old ladder was so old, it had been his grandfather's, but it was the only one he had. 

Darius suppressed the urge to look down. He was almost to the window, and this was no time to freak out because of his fear of heights.

His pulse slammed in his ears. He had never stolen anything before, not even a single loaf of bread.

"Hurry up!" Simon called up to him, impatience and anger lacing his voice.

Simon had stolen before, many times actually. Darius was sure Simon would have never let him help, if his partner in crime had not been caught and imprisoned last week.

The thought of prison spurred him on. He had fallen gravely behind on the taxes. He had already been threatened with slavery to pay them off. So here he was, at Pontius Pilate's home on an old ladder trying to steal something, anything of value.

But no time to reminiscence, the guards would be making their rounds soon. Simon was right, he needed to hurry up.

Darius scrambled up the remaining distance, trying to keep his balance with all the shuddering and swaying. He dove into the window and quickly looked around. An intricately decorated vase caught his eye. He grabbed it and grabbed the golden bowl next to it for good measure. He shoved both of the valuables into a fish net that he had fastened as a bag.

His pulse was deafening and his breathing was jagged. He heard footsteps coming down the hall towards him. He scrambled out the window and nearly had a heart attack when his hand slipped. He barely managed to slam himself into the wall to keep from toppling over backwards. He tried to slow his breathing as he inched along to the ladder.

He reached out grabbed the wobbly thing. The ladder swayed and creaked, but held firm. Darius scrambled down the ladder and jumped the last few feet to the ground.

Simon clapped him on the back, "Not bad." his voice grated on Darius's ears. He had a sick feeling in his gut, and he desperately wanted to drop the objects and run back home.

"Now let's go!" Simon smiled, showing his yellow teeth.

"One move and I'll run you through." a voice said behind them.

Simon stiffened and Darius turned around to see a guard with his spear at Simon's back.

Simon muttered unsavory things that made Darius's stomach turn.

The guard shouted and more arrived, tieing Simon and Darius up and dragging them off to Pilate.

The sentence was given swiftly. They were to be crucified.

Darius sat with his back against the prison wall. In his mind, he saw the man he caught sight of in the streets the day before the robbery. The man had been teaching the Jews, but he caught Darius's eye. The man, later found out to be a man called Jesus, seemed to see right through him. He looked sad, like he saw it all. The hardships, the robbery, and the judgment and he seemed to ask 'Do you really want to do this?'. Darius had just shrugged off the stranger's look and had continued on his way. But what would have happened if he had stopped and listened to the man?

Darius groaned and covered his face with his hands. This was all his fault, he deserved his judgment.

Simon spat at him. "What you groaning about?" he growled, "You had the chance to escape."

"The guard said he would kill you if I moved." Darius protested.

Simon spat again, "What of it? I would have run. You're obviously no thief. In this business, it's every man for himself."

Darius looked down. He wished he could have made a penitentiary offering at the temple before he died. Even though he was born a Jew, he had left that life behind as fast as he could. Now though, faced with death, he wished he could have gone back.

He thought about Jesus's face again. He was said to be a great prophet. If only he could see him again. Then maybe he could ask him to intercede for him, ask God to forgive him.

"Alright, boys, it's time." the guard opened the prison door. Simon flew into a rage, spitting and kicking. It took four guards just to drag him out.

"We're gonna need more guards." one of the guards scoffed as he looked at Darius.

"Don't worry." Darius stood and allowed the guards to tie up his hands, "I won't fight. I deserve my sentence."

"That's the weirdest thing I've ever heard a prisoner say." the guard scoffed, "But I wish there were more like you."

Darius let the guards lead him away to his cross and his deathbed on Calvary.