Cryptic Words and Hidden Letters

017

:: Second voice, Kalliope

As much as I can remember, jails are for the ones who committed minor crimes. I didn't know that cells can be this fascinating. Starting with the wonders of its prisoners, I asked every pair of eyes that mine landed: what did you do? Some of them admitted the crime they did, but some said they are innocent but called guilty. As for most, these people composing the room behind the bars are bad, that they deseved to be here. At some point, not all of them did the wrong thing, but made the decisions to survive. Among all of the living, only humans pay to live—others don't. But who must be blamed of the false verdicts? Is it the people, the system, or the society?

They say that the purpose of life is to live with a purpose. For someone who is not privileged as the powerful and beloved, what else can I do to open the blind eyes of the world defined by money and bribe?

In less than a week, I found myself in the presence of the custody. Not that I am in for a trial, well I am about to witness one, but not mine. I waited for another more minutes before I finally saw them.

Hands with cuffs, bags under their eyes, and tired faces. As soon as they are temporarily freed, I welcomed all of them with a hug, and all they did was to cry in my shoulders. My tears fell down as realization hits me the hardest.

They never cried in front of me, nor in front of other people. Never. Just today.

And it breaks me, shattering me to pieces knowing that I couldn't do anything to get all of them out of here at once; right now. It wasn't their fault, it was mine.

All they wanted to do is to provide for their families and I pulled them into this because of the thought that I can do better for us. But I only did that worst.

I tried to clear their names but no one listened. No fucking one.

Because no matter how hard I try, no one will hear us out. And if there is, not as powerful enough as those who can twist the story.

We all wiped our tears as we occupied our seats. I don't have much time, but I'll say whatever the damn hell I want to.

A promise I should live by.

But my methods don't seem to work out fine today. We were set up, and they're suffering the consequences. I don't even know what to feel, knowing that none of my friends are blaming me for what happened.

They're giving me hopes, instead of anger.

I blinked my eyes to swallow their words while roaming my eyes around them. Some didn't speak, but their eyes are already shouting.

I couldn't even take any of what they just said. It's difficult to watch my friends paying for the sins of survival, while here I am, hurting not behind the bars but by just simply staring at them rot behind it.

They say that I have the upperhand now, because of the money that 'he' bribed on me. I want to use it for them, to bring them out of this shithole but the law bends on that fucking politician's will.

I have no match against his connections, aside from these papers they put value on.

"Slap him the money he gave with something much more meaningful than its actual cost. Don't give that coward a satisfaction," they emphasized.

That's all I ever wanted—to keep him disappointed of me so that he'll never expect something from his own daughter. But this? Pulling the people I love into the pits of disdain is something I could never forgive.

They are right. A part of me refuses to deny the fact that I have the advantage here for being free from jail, but there's also the huge guilt inside telling me that I was actually the one who made this, and I shouldn't take this for granted.

Damn you, 'father.'

I sat back in frustration. Why does it have to happen? What we did are the rules to survive a crucial world, but why does the game so unfair to us? Is it because we're mere pawns of the elites and our 'little' sacrifices will worth prosperity to them?

I can't understand that. Never.

I was a leader, or so my friends say. I was the 'mother' of the group, but what kind of a mother I am if I put my 'child' in their own vain and doom?

It was a clear failure, but for them, it was a great save. They should have been in this cell a long time ago, but I halted it years before. They were in need of a save, but I couldn't even get how the hell did I pull them from the edge of the cliff.

How is it possible to live in uncertainties, then later on die in a river of mourns and mountain of regrets? Where am I supposed to go now? What should I do next?

Can I even do this?

And there, at the same day where I promised them to be free, charges for them were given.

The law found them 'guilty.'

"Is it worth fighting when it's already hurting?"

It is said that the end doesn't justify the means, or maybe at some point, it does?