The Search for Freedom

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I walked down the street, listening to my own heartbeat and counting my own footsteps, so that the tiredness would turn into solace. It was quite weird; there was no one outside their houses, and the doors and windows were all closed. I might be the only one outside. Even the beggars who were sitting on the street-side before had disappeared.

I didn't care what other people would do. They had their freedom and it was their life. They were in charge of themselves. Perhaps I was thinking about that thing because I cared. An emotional defense mechanism I learned that everyone had a responsibility to each other; their lives were adjoining; and no one could live alone, except me.

"What else can I do?" was the question that always stayed in my mind. I knew I could do something in every situation. But if not, I could still hope that everything would be fine. I hoped that my inference wasn't true and that my friend would be alright soon.

Eventually, I arrived near the gate of my friend's house. There were many people on the lawn. They might be all France's family, friends, acquaintances, etcetera. I felt ashamed to get inside. I didn't even know anyone there, so I attempted to go. "France, your friend is here!" Someone yelled. "Tell him to get inside!"

I waited a while to see my friend. Time was flying, but he didn't have a plan to show his face. So I decided to go home because the sun was also going down on the horizon. I didn't even have any right to peep at the dead, so I turned to leave when I heard someone calling my name.

"Lil!" France half-shouted while running towards me.

He was wearing baggy corduroy pants, a printed white shirt, and white slippers. His curly hair was bouncing as he jogged, then his watch fell down on the ground, so he went back and picked up his watch, then he continued towards me. "Sorry bro, I made you wait too long." France donned his watch.

"No, that's okay," I replied, while grasping the strap of my backpack.

I thought that France was sad because I could see a little, but not much, sadness on his face. However, I wasn't sure about it. I also knew that pain wasn't always in tears, it was sometimes present in smiles. "Do you want to get inside?" France asked.

"For what?" I replied, though I knew what he meant. He mustn't have said those words because I didn't want to get inside the coffin with his mother.

"To take a glimpse at my mother, who's lying inside the box."

"Um, France, I just want to convey my condolences."

I didn't mourn what you're thinking, bro. I knew that this day would come, and I had prepared for it. You're even better than my father, because he didn't show his face. Maybe he's busy flirting with his concubine. " I could hear the sadness in his voice. "Oh! I'm sorry to hear that." I made a sad expression on my face.

I was sad and guilty about everything but the thing that happened to my friend's family. I didn't know if what happened to his father, but I was sure that whatever happened, he was still his father.

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My heartbeats were so loud that I also heard them. My heart seemed to jump out of its rib cage. My inference became stronger when France said those words. I remembered the conversation between the two women who were fighting. It occurred to me that one of them was France's mother. I was taken aback to see her face. I knew I could not bear to see the person I bruised. May that woman forgive me, and may my friend forgive me too.

"I'm so sorry for what happened to your family," I apologized.

"No, you did nothing wrong. Instead, I must be thankful to you."

My guilt wanted to swallow me whole. I didn't know how to get rid of it. I needed to find a way so that I could pass that trial, because everything might change in just the wink of an eye.

"Sorry bro, but I need to go home, for the dusk is coming."

"Don't say sorry. It was my mistake that I made you wait too long, and because of that, I must accompany you to your house."

"No need, I can manage to go home, especially now that it's getting dark. You must stay here. I can drop all the ghosts in my way."

"Are you sure? You are not scared of ghosts? Haha."

"I would catch them and give them to you if you wanted." I patted his shoulder and turned to leave.

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"Ha-ha. But seriously, beware! The killer is just looking there!"

"They will beware of me!" I shouted. "I will broil them."

As I walked on, there were many questions crossing my brain, such as, how could I kill the mother of my best friend? How could I destroy one's family? How could I be so merciless and numb, though I knew I wasn't that kind of boy? Was it right to blame the old man for everything that happened? I knew I also made a mistake, which was why those tragedies happened, but I was also a victim.

The evil someone did followed him, the good he did returned to him, but I didn't know what to believe in, because I didn't even know if what I did was either evil or good. In the eyes of nature and myself, it was clear: I'm the most sinful person in the whole world. I could do nothing about it but hope that everything would be alright and I would not commit a sin again.

I wasn't sure what would happen next; I wasn't sure if I would be able to handle things anymore or if I would just collapse. Just like the rainfall, when the cloud could no longer handle its weight, it would fall.

After a few minutes of walking, I arrived home. My parents had locked the door again. They really thought that someone was killing people in our town, though the sun had just set and the dusk was coming towards me.

I walked towards the door and knocked on it. My mother would open the door and ask if I had been where I had been. But I was wrong, for it was my father who opened the door. I didn't care who would open the door either. I was happy as long as there was a door that would open for me.

"Christ!" Father scowled. "Leona! Your child is late again!"

Did I make the greatest mistake of my life that my father would scold me like that? I really did, so I must not feel like I was innocent if my father scolded me. What a hateful son I was! What a repulsive son! Perhaps it would be better if I went away from the world.

Even the moon refused to shine because it didn't want to show itself to me. The light would be defeated, and darkness would reign in the world. The most painful thing: the reason was me.