What I wish I’d known before becoming a prisoner
The guilt
No.
The darkness…in my heart
No.
The loneliness
No!
Little did I know it would not be any of these things that would cause so much pain. So much regret…
Because you know that now you have so much time to sit and think. In fact, you don’t really have a chance. You have to. If not, it might as well just become even worse.
But, of course, I wouldn’t want that. So I surrender. To my heart. “You are a sinner.” Maybe… Most probably. I know I have to admit my mistakes. Because they already know. I cannot escape. Running… Running is futile. It only prolongs my sentence. And my sanity… What little I have left is the one thing I can propose to bet on. It’s a game. For everyone but me. Because they have already won and simply wish to laugh at my misery.
But that’s okay. Because prisoners don’t have a choice. They play by the rules. Where else can they escape to?
You would think it was simple. With a mind like yours, you can quickly manage to come up with a plan to escape. You smile. It’s near. The end is near. And you are free.
But you know that’s a lie… They will capture you again. You have nowhere to run and you are doomed. Doomed to stay with them forever.
Freedom. The thought of it is now only a knife I could stab myself with. Nothing can take back what I had done. Nothing can stop my torment. Because they make sure I remember. They make sure I repent. They make sure I learn. That I will never again be the same. Why does my heart beat so quickly? Why does it feel like I am so afraid? Why don’t I want to admit? I fear… I fear their voices, I fear their steps… They know me… Better than I do. They face me. Without hesitation. They look at me in a way I myself wouldn’t dare…
“A fool” you would call yourself. Trying to smile. Trying to feel again. Trying to live. Normally. Bow down your head and admit. What got you here. What turned you into this.
You would wish you were not alone…
Some days I am allowed the luxury of remembering about you. Some days I think about how it felt to have your arms around my body. I hope the memory would warm me from the coldness. It hopefully will.
But it never does…
I wish to look around. To see something different than the same dirty walls. But I feel my body shaking, my breath quickening, my eyes watering. The shame… I bite my lip and cast my gaze down. “That’s right. Keep your head down.”
There is never an end…
You used to be happy. You used to be innocent. Run wild with those close to you. Closing your eyes only to hold the tears of loud laughter. Sincerity. Content. You used to be content.
Yes. Used to be…
“Does it hurt knowing you used to be all those things but can’t go back to it?” Silence… I wish I wasn’t so afraid to talk. But even opening my mouth has grown to require so much effort. “Does it hurt knowing you chose this end yourself?” Wish crying didn’t make me so tired. Wish I could stand up to them and protest. That sometimes one cannot think and acts against their own sense…
I wish I could stop “them” from destroying me.
My consciousness…
I wish I had known the harrowing of realizing I cannot go back.
