Forgiveness through the eyes of the child

A short story of a young man, that made the wrong turn in life.

The Alpha Project: Before the madness

Location: Jeffersonville, Correctional facility, 16 March 2008

Time:        0634

Last seen: “The Meadows” Clarksville, IN house # 668

 

          Its cold, so cold I feel my legs going numb. I can’t feel my face either. As I sit here, alone lying down, I can only think of how I got here. If anything, I’m glad. I don’t need them. Those b******s. Those heartless b******s. I stare at the ceiling as if I were in a trance, and for a moment, I suppose I was in a trance- Traveling back in time….Reminiscing, isn’t that what they called it?- I suppose so. As much as my mind wants to sit here (not here, but here as in the state of mind I was in) I can’t, thinking back isn’t going to get me anywhere. What’s done is done. Theres really no sense in dwelling on it now, besides, who knows? They might let me play with the ‘big’ boys later. Won’t that be fun? Still staring at the faceless, steel plated ceiling, I laugh quietly to myself. Yes, fun. Fun is what got you here I thought. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I didn’t do anything wrong, but was betrayed- THE  GODDAMN B******S! Theres one window at the very top of the ceiling, three long bars are spaced evenly through the windows frame. F**k this I rise up off the metal steel I was lying on and place my bare feet on the cold, steel floor. As my nerves try to accumulate to the unbearable, freezing floor I get a rush to my head. The kind of rush you get when you’ve been sleeping all night and you jump out of bed because you just found out you were late to work. Little white and black dots the size of ants start moving in a frenzy as I received possibly the biggest migraine in my life. What the hell? I look at my wrist and see a blood line indention on each arm, the edges a slight purple. I also see three deep lacerations on the other side of my left hand. Looks like I’ve had enough fun I thought. All the while that migraine, That motherfucking migraine is getting worse. And it was all originating from one spot. I cant explain it, but I knew exactly where it was coming from. My fingers automatically go to the source, on the left side of my forehead and I feel something. -Wait, what the- What I felt was a bump the size of about half my wrist. I started thinking about the fish I use to have back home. I liked the aggressive ones, the Chiclids . I could always tell who ran the fish tank by the size of the male specimens forehead. Whenever they displayed some form of dominance, it was a sign of maturity and the hormones would react by forming that ugly lump on their head.

No way,no f*****g way. Ignoring the pain in my wrist, ignoring the cuts imbedded in my left forearm, ignoring the migraine Ignoring the freezing cold floor pressed against my bare feet I get up and go to the sink. My legs are slightly sore too, but I don’t remember running lastnight. I don’t know, did you?

The mirror at the sink isn’t made out of glass; its made out of plastic. I can barely see myself in the damned thing but what I saw was enough, I didn’t need to see anymore. Now I knew were I was at. Thoughts were rushing through my head like a pinball machine. I gotta get out of here. I gotta get the HELL out of here! The door! Right across from the bed! Get out while you still can! I rush to the door, only to find its not a door, but a cell. Except in a ‘normal’ jail, they would have bars wouldn’t they? Right They would have bars. I face a stainless steel door, with a small, square sized window staring right back at me. Except, I cant see out the window. Migraine still bringing me agony, I search around for a way out. Theres gotta be a way out, theres always a way out. I look at the window high up by the ceiling, no good. Frustrated, I bang the steel door, ignoring the pain in my hands. Cold hands don’t mix well with solid, steel objects but I didn’t care. I kept pounding at the door, panting. What seemed like forever but most likely 10 minutes Im interrupted by some voice -

“Hey, boy.” The raspy voice said. “ You’re a Marine aint ya? Or that’s what you said last night anyway.” The voice was followed by a nasty, smoke filtered coughing laugh. Like a smokers cough, only they were trying to laugh but couldn’t help it. I looked up to where the voice was coming from, and then I knew: In the corner, high up in the ceiling by the door, there was a camera watching every move I made. By the camera was a speaker. How I missed the unmistakable, obvious details I don’t know. The voice came on again

“You gonna answer my question, there ‘Marine’? How this guy knew I was going to join the Marines was just a good a guess as anybodies, but he knew. And I knew now, where I was at. I heard the voice again, but I ignored it. I knew where I was at, I know what I did and now I know what is to come, this a*****e doesn’t scare me.

 I looked back into the mirror, all the while listening to the voice, still ranting on and on about what I did, and asking me questions- I didn’t listen. I closed my eyes and took a big breath of air �" “HEY WHAT ARE YA DOIN MARINE? HUH HAHAH” And exhaled deeply �" “Is that how they act nowadays? Ay George, come look at this little killer!” I stared into the mirror once more, looking at myself, studying myself. I don’t know why but I heard a voice of a child. No, I could see a child standing somewhere in a grassy field, the edges and corners of the image blurred by white light. The small boy was me. Dressed in a black suit, crying. Whats become of me, momma? Maybe, one day, I will make you proud. Soon enough I will. All the talking and bashing. They said Id never make it, momma, they said I wouldn’t be anything but I will! I will for you momma,. For you, I promise. I walked back to my steel bed extruding out the cement wall, grabbed the small blanket that was big enough to cover only my upper body and closed my eyes. The voice was still saying things, but I was listening to my own voices. Somewhere deep down in the debts of my mind I heard it. In a child’s voice, almost like mine, but not quit. Definitly sounded familiar though, but what the voice was saying didn’t really add up. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, you gotta long day ahead of you �"and soon enough, despite the uncomfortable steel bed, despite the static officer talking s**t on the speakers, despite my situation, I felt at peace with myself, (for that moment at least) I fell back to sleep. The childs voice was still saying something, desperately trying to convince me of his words. What it meant I didn’t know, the child kept crying out-

Daddy don’t be sad, because to me you’re the greatest daddy that ever lived.And that’s all that matters right, daddy? Youll show em! I felt a small trickle of water run down my left cheek, eyes still closed. “Yes” I said. “I will show them. Yes I will.”

Reviews

[Jen]

You have a gift. Don't give it up.