Looking around to notice a familiar face, there was
grief in the corner of her eyes. This morning she woke
up with more than her pajamas on, the arduous weight
of a dreadful year hanging from her shoulders made it
easier said than done to get out of bed. Today felt like
she was about to visit the cemetery, although what she
had to face was more formidable than talking to a grave.
Closure would be even further away than it had ever
been. The dull asphalt road leading up to this moment,
her tangled hair hastily put in a ponytail, and the scent of
alcohol lingering on her unkempt clothes; she was surely
in misery.
It was no surprise that she did not recognize any of the
hopelessly mournful faces around her. After all, it was
her first time in this loathsome place. Before impatiently
seating herself down, she caught a quick look at the
old dusty table that stood in front of her. Its legs were
scratched and scarred. The bitter fog that enveloped
this steel table, and all the other steel tables in this
aggravating building, exacerbated the distractions she
attempted to eradicate. Negligent to the fact that she
was uncontrollably staring at the black uniformed
guards, she realized; her life was about to be flipped
upside down.
Soon, a crook-backed man with silver strands in his
greasy hair emerged from behind a stained white wall.
He wore fetters and was held firmly by two robust guards.
Once they sat him down and handcuffed him to the old
table, she debated between smiling and remaining still.
Before she could come to a decision, the deafening
silence was broken. “Long time no see,” said the man
and smiled a crooked smile. Hearing the sound of his
voice overwhelmed the woman and she simply nodded.
Realizing that she will remain silent, he decided to lead
the conversation until she could get herself to talk. “I
must admit, I was quite surprised to learn that I have a
visitor. I thought the guards were messing with me until
they brought me here. And I suppose I can ask of your
forgiveness for one more time,” he added hopefully. The
woman was bothered, this was not what she came here
for. “One year in solitary. I don’t think my forgiveness
is what you should be worrying about,” she answered
hesitantly. The tired man did not reply. Despite the
fact that he did not want to completely wrap his mind
around the truth, he knew what she pointed out was
true. He was losing track of time and lost opportunities.
Every day when he woke up, four thick walls surrounded
him. Every night when he went to sleep, four thick walls
surrounded him. Although he had no perception of
time now, he had to be surrounded by those four thick
walls. He had to be behind that cold steel door. He, a sick
She was relieved as soon as she spit the words out.
After all, it took her a year to find the courage to face
the music. In spite of the anger welling up inside her,
she pitied the man for the first time in a long time. She
looked into her father’s eyes as she parted her lips, and
then closed them shut as if she thought it was better to
stay quiet. She did not want to grow even more apart
from him, but it was beyond the bounds of possibility
not to, considering that he was in such a place like this.
“I keep a picture of you here, you know,” he said, “It’s
under my pillow, they haven’t noticed yet.”
Slowly tears started to roll down his cheek like rain on
a dusty pane. The exhaustion he was hiding under his
eyes had finally been able to flee. He looked away, stared
at the concrete under his tied-up feet, and discreetly
wondered what his life would have been like if he were
not a criminal.
Even though he tried to disguise his agonizing pain, she
wanted to hold her suffering father’s hand and tell him
that he will be okay, but knew that it was impossible,
mainly for two reasons: she was not so certain he could
bear this torture anymore, and physical contact was
strictly prohibited.
The woman suddenly became aware of the tender feeling
that flowed through her veins and the compassion
monopolize her soul. She recalled the first time he was
discovered and taken away, and the time she did not want
to show up in court. She remembered the time when the
chimes of freedom fell to bits and the unspoken truth
was finally addressed. This destructive place failed its
aim to rehabilitate. He was put in solitary confinement
to protect the others from him, but how could it be so
that he could not be protected from himself?
“I better go,” she said reluctantly as she tucked a strand
of hair behind her ear. She was drained of energy
already. “Don’t beat up another guard while I’m gone.”
THE CLAPPER 2018 - 2019
21
A CROOKED MAN
man, was put in there just to become even sicker. This
was very much like visiting a grave, and worse for many
reasons. It was death before dying.