Disgraced.
Convicted.
Bolted.
Am shaking… alone in this mucid, sunless void. A place where they label you as morally wrong—measured against their bent laws. Ha! Double standards! But we’re even. They deceived me. Savages! Fools!
Nirvana denies that I exist. Nonsense! Why then do I feel the pain, misery, suffering, dejection? All lies… sewage schemes!
I am Jiyuu. I exist and I have a story.
“Sensei, please, I need my work back.” I bowed and pleaded until my sweat turned to blood.
He sneered. “With no pay? Sure.”
Our eyes met. His glare made me want to hit his nose until there was nothing left of it. I retained my composure; after all, I needed to be in his good graces.
“But Sensei, I have a family to provide for.” I almost kissed his feet. “My wife badgers me nonstop. And,” the words stuck in my throat. “I have a little girl who needs to eat—never mind me and my wife, we can bear the hunger—but she is not strong.”
His tongue ran through his lips. “Your wife.” His hand stroked his long white beard.
Rotten!
His head snapped. “What do I care?” He jabbed me with his walking stick—the cane, with his initials hanging proud like a pendant at the handle. “You get out of my sight before I let my dogs have you for their dessert.” He leaned closer to me. “You’re not even good enough to be their lunch! I’m tired of hearing your pathetic voice,” he said with a wave of the hand.
A merciless man is said to have a heart of stone. If this is true, the whoreson would have a diamond heart—diamond being the hardest of stones. Fecal philosophy! And to think, I almost kissed his feet—grimy and putrid feet. They even squished as he limped away from me.
I left, what with the threat of the dogs devouring me. A dead man, especially a dismembered one, is no good at all. I needed to find a job for the sake of my wife and my little girl.
I went from one house to the next asking for work, but to no avail. I dared not ask for alms. That was degrading. I wouldn’t stoop that low. It was work or die trying to look for work. I wanted my little girl to be proud of me. I am a man and I have principles.
My little girl. My angel. We, hand-in-hand, would take long walks every day early in the morning, breathing in the fresh cool sea breeze. Her soft little fingers, enveloped in my calloused grip. She would give me a big peck on my cheek before I had to leave in search for work; and she would wave until I turned around the corner, no longer able to be seen. She would come up running to meet me with outstretched arms every time I returned home in the evening and rode on my shoulders to our shack. She never failed to be there waiting for me. She had big round eyes curious about everything and yet so innocent in every way. She would laugh enthusiastically every time something amused her, even little things like bunny rabbits. When she giggled, I couldn’t help but smile. I told her bedtime stories and tucked her in each night. I was there holding her little hand until she slept calmly. My little girl…
But that doomed day, when I returned home exhausted after a long day of looking for work and finding none, my little girl wasn’t there waiting. It didn’t feel right. A cane just like that of the Sensei leaned beside the door. Through the dark, muffled sounds trickled from our bedroom. I lit a candle and pushed open the bedroom door. There, I came upon my wife and that pig!
All my toil flashed back—the heat, the sweat, the exhaustion, the humiliation, the mockery—I endured all those… and then this… this is what I got in return! I pulled my samurai sword and in my fury slashed them to pieces. They didn’t even have a chance to cry out or even flinch. Blood gushed all over the floor, the wall… everywhere. I didn’t stop slashing until…
“Jiyuu! Jiyuu!” Frantic knock. I threw the sword at the chopped cold meat and hurried to open the door.
“What!” I barked at the person standing on our doorstep.
“Your little girl!” The ashen-faced man pointed at a group of people at the end of the street crowding at something… or someone.
My heart pounded hard as I scampered to the crowd. I pushed all the people blocking my way. There, at center of the confusion, bathing in her blood, lifeless… my angel… my little girl. I held her little hand and placed it against my cheek. I touched her face. I would never see her innocent eyes again. I would never hear her giggle again. Where was I to protect her? I snuggled her closer to my chest for the last time. My angel! Why did this happen to you? Things swirled around me, stopped and darkened.
I came to here, imprisoned. They found the scattered pieces of scum in the damned bedroom. They suspected no one but me. And my angel? When the mongrel came to our house, the skank told my angel to go out and play. My little angel was so smart that she went out looking for me instead. Some neighbors told me that they saw her running up and down the streets crying, asking people if they had seen me. Then, the carriage, owned by the slob but driven by one of his servants, appeared from nowhere in top speed and…
Life is unfair. If I had a choice, I wouldn’t have chosen to be born. Hara-kiri? I would if I had the chance, but they won’t give me my sword back. If I do it, I will do it right and with dignity. After all, I am a man and I have my principles.
The huge iron-gate creeks open. Soldiers’ footsteps echo through the whole slammer. Another prisoner will be led to the gallows today. Who is it going to be? They never tell. It’s always a bolt from the blue when your time is up. You will only know when they unlock your hole. Some prisoners shriek. Others put up a fight.
The marching stops.
Light gushed in through my cell. My time.
I didn’t even give my wife a chance to explain herself. What if she was forced or drugged?
One soldier cuffs my hands behind and pushes me outside the door.
No! Forced or drugged, it was still her fault. Why didn’t she shout and ask for our neighbors’ help?
The cold floor numbs my bare feet.
Filth! I’m not in the least sorry for what I did. Adulterers!
The gusts of wind chill my bones.
But… the candle-flame played shadows on our bedroom wall. Was it my wife? Was it Sensei?
The gravel crunches underneath.
Of course! Didn’t I see the whoreson’s cane?
The gallows loomed high.
What if the walking stick was just a replica?
I stumble up the plank. My nose breaks the fall. I taste blood.
No. It was them. I felt it all along. Deceit. Scorn. This is the end.
I walk up the steps.
How ironic. My name is Jiyuu and yet I am bound.
The noose is slipped around my neck.
My daughter. Your smile comforts my tortured soul.
I am ready. I hold my head high.
The stage gives way.
The
knot
tightens.
…breathe
freedom…
angel
…with
you
now
.
