The Price of Freedom
"This is jail. This is our jail." He told it to me in a matter-of-fact tone. I looked at him closely across the steel bars of their secluded home.
"What made you say that? Don't you know how lucky..."
"They lock us up all the time!" Mark vehemently made a rebuttal while I was explaining my side. I looked at him again, more closely than the last. His eyes turned to fire and it was directed into my eyes, melted by guilt.
"You have everything you need; food thrice a day, shelter through the cruel day and the gloomy night, clothes to keep you comfortable." I was trying to reason out with him, difficult as it may sound and believe from his view point but I have to tell him of his condition here.
"But being free..." He gulped his next words. He shyly looked away. He turned his body away from the me and where the sun light was entering the establishment.
"Look." I tried to reach him from his back, giving him a sense of safety but seeing that he was away from my reach I just told him: "I know how you feel."
"How do you know?! Have you ever been locked up before? Have you spent afternoons inside a miserly and cold place only to stare at the ceiling or at the wall?" His fiery eyes grew and he hissed which startled me.
I immediately withdrew my hand from inside and looked at him straight into his eyes. I felt what he said. It struck me in the saddest of ways.
"I wish I would really know how to feel being locked up so I could understand him more, so that I could understand them more." I told myself at the back of my mind.
"Look, all I'm trying to say is that what are you gonna do outside? Sniff rugby again? Or solvent perhaps? Steal from someone just to buy food? What will you do outside?"
"What do you think of us? Do you think we're all substance abusers here?" Mark's voice increased in volume and with a hint of sarcasm. "We're not all what you think. We came from families, we have families. Some have, some had."
I was taken aback. I instantly felt like a potato being mashed lowlier than a pulp. All I know is they are children who are being rehabilitated for substance abuse. I didn't think they were abandoned, abused and surrendered too.
After the throws of sentences, Mark literally muted me like a doll's mouth being sewn to give form but can not speak. I looked down on my shoes, embarrassed, guilty and ashamed of what I told him. True, I had no right to tell him that and I admit fault.
He slowly touched my hair and when I looked at him, he was now sporting a smile, the smile he used to wear when I first saw him. I smiled back knowing that he forgave me for what I said.
Maybe I couldn't understand him now, maybe I won't be able to, but I can relate, after all, there will always be a price to pay in return for freedom. Even for just a meager amount of it.
"What made you say that? Don't you know how lucky..."
"They lock us up all the time!" Mark vehemently made a rebuttal while I was explaining my side. I looked at him again, more closely than the last. His eyes turned to fire and it was directed into my eyes, melted by guilt.
"You have everything you need; food thrice a day, shelter through the cruel day and the gloomy night, clothes to keep you comfortable." I was trying to reason out with him, difficult as it may sound and believe from his view point but I have to tell him of his condition here.
"But being free..." He gulped his next words. He shyly looked away. He turned his body away from the me and where the sun light was entering the establishment.
"Look." I tried to reach him from his back, giving him a sense of safety but seeing that he was away from my reach I just told him: "I know how you feel."
"How do you know?! Have you ever been locked up before? Have you spent afternoons inside a miserly and cold place only to stare at the ceiling or at the wall?" His fiery eyes grew and he hissed which startled me.
I immediately withdrew my hand from inside and looked at him straight into his eyes. I felt what he said. It struck me in the saddest of ways.
"I wish I would really know how to feel being locked up so I could understand him more, so that I could understand them more." I told myself at the back of my mind.
"Look, all I'm trying to say is that what are you gonna do outside? Sniff rugby again? Or solvent perhaps? Steal from someone just to buy food? What will you do outside?"
"What do you think of us? Do you think we're all substance abusers here?" Mark's voice increased in volume and with a hint of sarcasm. "We're not all what you think. We came from families, we have families. Some have, some had."
I was taken aback. I instantly felt like a potato being mashed lowlier than a pulp. All I know is they are children who are being rehabilitated for substance abuse. I didn't think they were abandoned, abused and surrendered too.
After the throws of sentences, Mark literally muted me like a doll's mouth being sewn to give form but can not speak. I looked down on my shoes, embarrassed, guilty and ashamed of what I told him. True, I had no right to tell him that and I admit fault.
He slowly touched my hair and when I looked at him, he was now sporting a smile, the smile he used to wear when I first saw him. I smiled back knowing that he forgave me for what I said.
Maybe I couldn't understand him now, maybe I won't be able to, but I can relate, after all, there will always be a price to pay in return for freedom. Even for just a meager amount of it.
Sus, they'd get used to it. Beat them up if they don't follow the line. Hahaha! Sama ko lang.
ReplyDeleteBtw, can't reply. Capped na ako. As for your question, I don't have his number pala and his FB. Narealize ko na suplado ako. Wahaahhaa!!
Therapeutic communication dapat, empathy not sympathy.lol :)
ReplyDeletein some way, at some level, we try our very best to understand others especially the ones we love.
ReplyDeleteto be in someone else's shoes is difficult. to wear someone else's glasses does not necessarily make your sight clearer.
still we try..and we develop a deeper respect for that someone.
aus na aus to..parang gusto ko na uli magnurse miss ko na white uniform ko..happy new year!
ReplyDeletepano nga ba ipapaintindi sa kanila yan?
ReplyDeleteand there are prices we must pay for mistakes that we make.
ReplyDelete*Mu[g]en - you're such a meanie...
ReplyDeleteGASP! Do you really have to place that here?!
*RJ - that is so true. :)
*paci - as hard as it may seem, it can be achieved for respect can not be demanded, it is received, if worthy.
*rico de buco - Happy New Year too! You can volunteer if you want. These institutions need all the help they can get. More so the clients.
*JasonPaul - in baby steps. That is the only way for when you let them realize all of that in one big blow, they will get provoked.
*daredevilry - can I say OUCHIES?