Nobody Knows This About Me But I Have A Dark Past
I tend to keep to myself. I have found that it often makes things easier for me, and others, not to burden people. This is particularly so when it comes to information about my family. This might be because my family history is the root of my self-isolation. However, I have recently come to the conclusion that the boundaries I have set, keeping the world out, have become my chains. Thus, I feel now is the right time to share my story.
I grew up in Johannesburg, South Africa. A dangerous city, to say the least, it has been murder capital of the world on multiple occasions. This is not a tale of an inner-city boy who had to fight on the streets to stay alive, though. On the contrary, I came from a wealthy family — one of the wealthiest in the city, in fact. I went to the best schools, my parents drove the best cars, we had multiple servants in our houses and as I was an only child, I always had the best toys. My family were the definition of the ‘one percent’ you often here about on the news. Despite this, my parents were fully committed to improving the city, to building a better Johannesburg. This was not a notion that many people of their like shared, however.
My mother loved the opera. So, like any good husband would, my father bought us tickets to go see a show on the night of her 37th birthday. I was twelve years old. It was a beautiful show and although I remember it vividly, it is what would happen afterwards that I will never forget. It was now dark. We had parked at quite a distance away from the theatre so that we would not draw attention to ourselves. So, as we made our way back to the car we had to pass through an alleyway. Suddenly, out of the darkness, appeared a man and even before he pulled out his gun, his intentions were clear. We were in the midst of an armed robbery. This may sound like a cliché, but everything happened so quickly. It was as if I had become a passenger in my own body, with no control. I did not speak, I did not run, I did not cry; I just saw. My father stepped in front of my mother, assumedly to calm the situation down. But almost instantaneously, the sound of two gunshots tore through the air. By the time I finally returned to the driver’s seat I had come to the realisation that my parents lay around me, dead, and the killer gone.
The story made national news. The funeral was televised. There were promises from many a politician about reforms and justice… but they were all empty words. The deeply embedded corruption in the legal system saw that the killer was never found. It appeared that it was in the higher power’s best interest that my parents were now dead. The early years were the most difficult. I had no other family so I was raised by my butler, who my parents declared my legal guardian as he had served our family for twenty years. I had so much anger and frustration. I felt alone. I felt like I should have done more to protect my parents. Eventually I found a way to channel that anger… I learnt how to fight. I took up multiple forms of martial arts, focusing all my energy on honing my skill. With every kick, every punch, I felt more alive, I felt closer to my parents. So I kept on training.
As time went on, the public’s memory of my parents was forgotten. They were just another tragedy in a city filled with tragedies. Their legacy began to fade as their competitors tore apart all the good work they had achieved in improving the city for the sake of profit. There was nothing I could do but watch on. This is why I’m at university. This is why I’m studying law. I will not allow my parents to be forgotten and if I cannot bring them back I will do all that is in my power to bring their killer to justice. They had a dream for Johannesburg; a dream that could have been achieved. It is, thus, my duty to make sure that dream becomes a reality. It has become clear to me, however, that legality can only take you so far in Johannesburg. In order to fulfil my parent’s aspirations further steps need to be taken. For now, I am not sure what does steps are, but I will not fail my parents.
Okay, this isn’t true. It’s the plot to Batman. But I had you going for a second, didn’t I?
