"Knock knock" The door sounded as if a ram is going to break it. It grew more and more intense. Every knock sounded like a multiplication to the previous one. As I stepped on and woke up from my sleep, I tiptoed towards the door to see if it had the same impact on the other inmates of the place.
We stayed in a remote place. To hear a knock was to hear a summon. A summon that would mean the death of one of us. An execution of one of us. The crimes we did were to be washed away. The crimes came back and haunted us as the knock on the door. With every knock, our brains would paint our lives on the canvas of our heart. Each moment would come alive. The happy ones would console us while the bad ones would haunt us. And there lingered the grim reaper. With a sickle and a gun in its hand. A gun that would probably put every weapon that exists to shame.
Heavy, metal-like, loaded, and sharp. It did not have a trigger. The Reaper would just look at us, close its eyes, and open them to unleash misery. Oh no, it would not kill us. It would put apart each muscle of our body to make us linger for death but never grant it. The mercy of life made us regret our crimes. Death would never come because we would be hanging, never dead, and never alive.
The knock stopped. I went back to reality to see that the door was open. My heart stopped. It was in my mouth. I could not see or think about anything. I could see a bike there. A bike with a symbol of a skull. A skull that reminded me of the Grim Reaper. There was a bag full of letters. Letters that decided the lucky draw of life. It was a chance. A chance that you never wanted in life.
"Christine," a voice called me. "Christine, Christine." "CHRISTINE!" The voice startled me and broke my flight of fancy. I looked at her face. The inmate seemed tense. I had never seen her that tense. Perhaps she was the unlucky one. Perhaps not her but me. She came ahead and gave me the letter. The envelope was fresh white. Unstained and untouched. Smelled like a new flower that has just bloomed. The freshness of the envelope never resonated with the fear in my heart. I smelt it but the flower seemed like the one on my grave. The envelope became the new stone of my graveyard. It said, " Christine Stevens, carpenter, Wife, and a loving Daughter, 1990-2025."
I could not get myself to open the letter. The frozen hands did not need a push but a comfort. I remembered the night of the event. It is probably the last time I would ever dream or remember anything. My end was near.
" It was a cold, chilly night. The rustling leaves and the heavy snow added to the gloom. I could hear people talking and whispering. There was something eerie in the air. I walked ahead and kept walking. I wanted to escape the haunting voices. Finally, I managed to reach a spot that was away from the surroundings. A green tree that was rare to find in the area. The snow covered most of its color but one would be amazed to find it so fresh and lively. The gloom of the air was compensated by the painting of nature. I sat down on a bench under it. I caught my breath and rubbed my hands.
Suddenly, I hear a woman running towards me. A shouting, distressed woman. I was dumbfounded. I was frozen again. I could not figure out whether the cold breeze made me stick to the bench or the horrid imagery that was in front of me. A man followed the woman. The man seemed athletic. It seemed like he ran everyday and showed no signs of exhaustion or distress. His appearance was not clear. Only noticeable thing was that he wore a sweatshirt and did not pant even once while the woman panted rigorously. His sweatshirt was full of sweat.
As soon as I got back to my senses, I decided to intervene. I followed the man and ran. I could follow them until we reached a dead end. There was a wall ahead and trees around. The man noticed me and pushed me afar. I fell down on the snow. He advanced towards the woman. Slow, steady, and focused. Like a predator approaching a prey and the prey has nowhere to run. “Help, HELP, Help, HELP!” Every step made the scream louder. It was now or never. If I wanted to save the woman, I would have to act now. I got up. Unaware about my actions, the man still concentrated on the woman. He got closer to the woman and caught her. She tried to escape but he was too strong. The fangs of evil lurked on her. She tried to hit to no avail. She bit him and he lost his grip. As soon as that happened, she ran and so did he. I picked up a stone and threw towards him. He was hit and looked towards me. A look so indifferent and apathetic that would send chills to anyone. He proceeded towards the woman and caught her tight now. Before she could do anything, he hit her hard on the neck and she fell down. I saw this and could not hold myself. I picked up another stone and hit him hard. This time, it hit his knees and he fell down. He rolled and his head hit a tree beside him. I could not believe what I had done. This is never something I would ever do. I froze again. I slapped myself hard and came back to my senses. I flee the scene.
The next day, I was interrogated for this. I narrated the events and I confessed the crime that I did. I could not bear the guilt.
For the last 10 years, everyday, this memory haunts me. I just re-lived this moment and thought about how finally it might be stopped. The frozen hands started shivering and as they approached the letter, the shivering stopped. The guilt in me had died knowing the end was near. I opened the letter. As I read it, I could not control myself. I broke down. It was nothing I ever accepted. I knew the end was near but I did not know it could be this ugly. This bad. Horrific enough to make me question my whole life again. It said,
“ Dear Christine,
It is with a heavy heart and deepest regrets that I write this letter. There is enough wrong in the world and our efforts are to reduce and decrease them. We are not always successful. It is but a stain on the judicial system that we bar citizens from their right of justice. Hereby, we want to inform something heart-wrenching, something gut tearing, and something that makes shiver.
“You are innocent and we are deeply sorry for the quick decision that we took. The woman in question never died and that is probably something you already know and are aware about. However, what you do not know is that the man too is alive and was far away in Russia for 10 years. He recently came back. He is a certified therapist who specializes in dealing with schizophrenic patients. The woman had an intense episode of schizophrenia and thought that the doctor was her ex-husband who abused her a lot. His methods and techniques sometimes involve using martial arts in which he might use some points in the body to faint a person. While you tried to save the woman and attacked him, you hurt his leg and he fell, hurting his head. However, he got up and immediately treated himself with basic first aid and reached the hospital with the patient. Since it was an episode of intense schizophrenia for her, she could not differentiate between what actually happened and what she was hallucinating. The man then went to Russia for a family emergency. We never investigated the case as we also found a body in that area of a person hit on the head. We recently found a vehicle in the lake nearby which belonged to the dead person. Upon investigation, we found the person to be dead due to accidental injuries on the head.
We hereby exculpate you from the charges. This is effective immediately. For re compensation of the years that you have served in the jail, you are entitled to resources including wealth, education, healthcare, and profession from the government for your lifetime. You can also meet Dr. Boris Rakovsky, the person that you mistook as a criminal. He is absolutely fine and was terribly upset to find you in this position. In fact, he was happy to offer you a job at his place.
Please enjoy your freedom and if possible, accept the sincerest apologies from the government and the judicial system. We are indebted to you and we shall fulfill any reasonable demand that you make for the next 10 years.
- Chief Justice Schnide Chenkoza
Supreme Court of Alaskland
I read this and I still do not know if it was the knock that woke me up or my conscience which was always clouded and finally felt peace when I saw the letter. The letter also gave me the bike and I hit the road. The Grim Reaper was still lingering but for other inmates. The bike seemed like a chariot to me which dropped me at my home, leading to a tear jerking reunion.
