TALES OF AGONY

005

THE PRISONER

At the age of fifteen, I learned to look for work to provide my little sister's needs. Because when I was seven years old, my mother committed suicide. My father, on the other hand, I can't trust him because he only comes home once and sometimes when he comes home drunk, he beats me just to get rid of his anger in the world.

IT'S JUST OKAY FOR ME AS LONG AS HE DOESN'T HURT MY SISTER. 

Even though I was struggling financially, I was still able to study and send my sister to school. I work at night, I study in the morning so that's why I can only go home at dawn. But no matter how tight my time is, I drop and pick my sister up.

IT'S OK FOR ME TO GET TIRED AS LONG AS I KNOW MY SISTER IS SAFE.

After class I hurried to the school where my sister was studying to pick her up and take her home.

As I waited for her to come out, I wondered why I hadn’t been able to find her yet. So I  thought about asking the guard.

"Guard, did you see my sister come out?" I asked him and showed him the picture of my sister.

"Yes, a man came after her. He introduced himself to me, he said he was the father of this little girl," he replied.

From what I heard, I was sweating coldly, my heartbeat seemed to be racing with the fast creature and I couldn’t understand how I was feeling.

I quickly ran to our house and when I arrived, I gasped as I looked at the doorknob of our apartment door. My heart was shaking and beating fast as I slowly turned the doorknob. And the quiet room exposed me, so I slowly began to step forward.

I saw what I feared the most.

I saw my sister naked and she was lying on the floor. My sister seemed lifeless on the dirty floor, full of cigarette butts and alcohol's cans.

I picked her up quickly and I could no longer feel my feet running. There is only one thing on my mind.

I WANT TO SAVE MY SISTER AND LET HER BE SAFE.

But when I arrived at the hospital, the news crushed me.

MY SISTER IS DEAD ON ARRIVAL.

I failed to save her. I failed to keep her safe.

As I sat in the park where we usually visit with my sister on my day off, my tears flowed along with the pouring heavy rain.

I don’t care about the cold, I just feel remorse, anger and sadness.

As I was walking home, I was accompanied by a downpour of heavy rain. Suddenly my cellphone rang.

"Is this Mr. Del Cruz?"

"Yes, I am," I replied coldly.

"Based on the doctor's findings, she died of asphyxiation. Asphyxiation is caused by lack of oxygen. It can quickly lead to loss of consciousness, brain injury, or death. Some causes of asphyxiation."

I put down the cellphone, I didn’t utter what he said, I just remained standing in the middle of the heavy rain while I held my cellphone tightly.

For a few minutes I didn’t think I could come home without my own sanity. And I have only one question.

WHY IS MY HEAD SO LOUD?

I looked at our wall where my sister was writing in crayon.
She drew two people, a woman and a man and she put something on it

ME AND MY BROTHER. I LOVE MY BROTHER SO MUCH.

I cried, not out of sadness but out of anger. So in a fit of rage, I hit a chair against our wooden wall and was exposed to so many letters.

I looked at it and it turned out to be my mother's suicide note.

MY DEAR CHILDREN

I KNOW THE TIME WILL COME WHEN YOU WILL READ THIS. FORGIVE ME IN FOR LEAVING YOU. I CAN NO LONGER BE WITH THE MAN WHO DESTROYED MY LIFE. I DON'T WANT TO BE WITH A MAN I DON'T LIKE. I WAS JUST FORCED TO MARRY HIM BECAUSE HIS RAPE ON ME RESULTED. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH MY CHILDREN, PLEASE DON'T FORGIVE ME.

After I read it, I tore up the message. And also at the same time my father and his friend entered.

"Your daughter is so delicious, bro. I want to repeat what we did to her. I didn't think it was that delicious to have sex with a chil—"

He didn't finish what he was going to say when they saw me. I want to kill them.

My father's big hand touched my face. "Hey little shit, what are you doing on the wall? Where's your sister?" he asked.

Surprisingly, I no longer felt any pain but pure anger.

"You son of the bitch!" He slapped me in the face causing me to fall to the floor.

"Answer me little shit!" He rode me and punched me.

IT'S STRANGE, I STILL DON'T FEEL PAIN.

Until I lost consciousness. When I woke up, it was revealed to me that they had fallen asleep due to drunkenness.

So I slowly got up, and went to the kitchen to get a hammer.

I watched my father's friend sleep soundly. I had no choice but to kill them. I lifted the hammer I was holding and I did not hesitate to strike it on his head. Because of what I did he woke up and he tried to fight, but because he was drunk, he was not strong enough to fight me.

I strangled him and continued to slap the hammer on his head until his face could no longer be seen.

"What the hell are you doing!" my father shouted as he pointed a gun at me.

I approached him fearlessly so he fired the gun and hit me on the shoulder. I threw the hammer at him, causing the gun he was holding to fall. So I quickly picked up the gun.

"Son, let's talk about this. Don't kill me my son," he pleaded as he slowly backed away and he fell to the floor.

"My tears flowed without me noticing. "Son? You must have been a father before."

I touched the crank, I repeatedly shot him on the head until the bullet ran out.

I sat on the floor and at the same time the police arrived.

So if you ask me when was the last time I cried.

MY LAST CRY WHEN I KILLED MY OWN FATHER. I KILLED THE RAPIST

After I shared with the media the story of a prisoner, the interviewers at the conference murmured.

"Senator Sanchez, you mentioned Jack Del Cruz in the story. Wasn't he the one who killed the 24 inmates?" An interviewer asked me.

I smiled. "Del Cruz is the number one feared criminal but whatever the reason may be, murder is always wrong. I used to ask him why he killed 24 inmates, he didn't answered. But when I found out his story, I found out the reason. Because the 24 inmates who have been killed are pure rapist. "

An interviewer raised her hand.

"Yes?" I uttered.

"This is just my opinion, senator. We didn't expected his past is scary and sad."

I smiled. "We did a project like this to find out what the pasts of those in prison were. And of all the stories, I was only interested in Del Cruz past."

"I realized to him that not all murderers are bad. Not all criminals are bad."

I stood up in my seat, adjusted my neck tie and turned my back on the people. Many people call me to ask but I ignore them.

NOT ALL CRIMINALS ARE BAD, THEY ARE JUST A BROKEN HERO.