Lord, Grant Me The Freedom…
Part 7
"The last of
the human freedoms is to choose one's attitude."
38 weeks to
go.
"...the
young, the fit and the strong who have so much to contribute..."
The words
hadn't meant anything at the time. Nothing had. But, slowly, they began to work
their way into his mind and, even more slowly, into his consciousness. Jarod
looked up at the marks he had drawn on the wall, the sign of the weeks that he
had to remain where he was. He calculated that he had been sick for three weeks
- that was what a guard had replied, in answer to his almost inaudible
question.
Now he mentally
scratched three marks off from the chart he had drawn on the wall of the cell
and slowly counted those that remained. Thirty-eight weeks. Two hundred and
sixty-six days. Six thousand...he couldn't keep up the chain of thought. The
calculations, simple as they were, took both time and energy and Jarod had
little of either to spare.
Instead, for
the first time, he began to think about the actions that had resulted in him
being imprisoned. He thought of the man, able to be with his family instead of
trapped in the cold, grey cell and the feelings that had prompted him to take
the sentence for the innocent man swept over him again. He knew that the man
was innocent. He, Jarod, had been close to uncovering the truth before he was
arrested. It hadn't been a surprise when the turned up on the doorstep but it
was frustrating. He had been so close. And now a convicted criminal, wearing
another man's name and identity, was walking the streets, able to breath fresh
air and see the sun and talk to people every day. Able to find other victims.
Something twisted inside Jarod and there was a sudden sharp pain but this was
different. This was the pain that would finally get him up and living again.
The room was
dark and Miss Parker, as the door slid shut behind her, wasn't sure whether to
be thankful for somewhere she could hide or frightened of something she
couldn't see. She continued to stand just inside the door, straining to hear
something in the silence and fighting to see something in the dark. It was
worse, knowing that she could see nothing but a person choosing to view this
room through the security system could see her hesitancy. Gradually fear built
within her until she felt something twist inside her. Spinning, she reached out
a hand for the button that would open the door but, instead, the room was
suddenly illuminated by the pressure of her hand on the light switch.
Gasping with
shock and fear, she stared at the door for a second, finally reaching out to
touch it with a trembling hand and despising herself at the same time for her
apprehensions. Finally, slowly, she began to turn. Each item came into her
field of vision and she stared as if seeing it for the first time. Suddenly
there was an abrupt movement and, catching it out of the corner of her eye, she
turned and found herself confronted with the small mirror Jarod had been
allowed to keep in his room. Slowly, cautiously she approached it and, acting
as though it could blow up in front of her, she picked it up and examined
herself carefully in it.
The corridor
was wider than he remembered it but considering that he had been avoiding this
part of the Centre since the last time he had visited it, soon after Jarod had
escaped, it was hardly surprising that it should appear out of proportion. His
eyes travelled the length of it, visually exploring the areas where he had
never permitted Jarod to physically explore and the memory of this added
further to the guilt he was feeling. The note hadn't helped. Sydney thought he
knew what Jarod had been feeling when he wrote it but the words had only added
to the burden that Sydney felt was becoming heavier by the day.
The memory of
everything he had inflicted on Jarod came piling back in on him, enhanced by
the words on that paper, until Sydney could feel himself bowing under the
pressure. Pain had been building inside him for days, a pain which twisted and
turned, seeming to burrow its way into his very core. He had struggled to
relieve it, but found that it could be removed. At least, there was one way
that it could, but Sydney was not yet ready for that to happen. He knew what he
would have to face before it could occur and those demons were worse than the
ones that tormented him now.
Finally he
stood outside the door and, slowly, moved out one hand and released the lock on
the door. As the door slid back, instead of the darkness and silence he
expected, he was confronted by a bright light and a loud crash of broken glass.