It has been a whole day since I escaped from prison. I’m finding it hard to keep track of time. Being out here in the cold, without any money or friends is tough, but I have no other option but to keep moving forward. As I wait at the bus stop, I’m taking this moment to reflect on my situation.

I feel fortunate because things worked out better than I expected. The chaos in the prison was more effective than I thought, and it distracted the guards longer than I needed to make my escape. Perhaps this is a sign that my revenge is meant to happen.

After all I’ve been through today, I’m extremely exhausted. After I got far enough from the prison, I jumped out of the car while it slowed down for a turn. I continued on foot. My goal was to get out of Brooklyn at least and I did.

I walked for six hours non stop, until I reached a park where I could lay low. It was night time already and it was getting cold, so I joined a group of homeless people, gathered around a fire.

They were looking at me in doubt. I guess even my prison clothes looked cleaner than what those poor bastards were used to seeing. Maybe they suspected I’m with the police, since my clothes had lots of blue in them.

I offered one of them to switch clothes with me. He had some dirty, worn out clothes on, so he agreed to the upgrade, after a bit of hesitation. By that time, I couldn’t resist any longer, as the fatigue took control of my body, and I slept for a couple of hours.

And that was how I spent my first evening as a free man in years. Sleeping in the cold with a bunch of miserable strangers. I used to joke with other prisoners that I’ll spend my first night out in the hottest club in New York, and dance till I fall unconscious. I guess life is never what you expect.

Well, I don’t have many complaints. Even though my first night of freedom wasn’t great, it was still a significant improvement over my first night in captivity. That memory is still vivid in my mind, and it reminds me of how naive and inexperienced I was back then.

I was constantly being shuffled from one place to another – from jail to court to prison – and I was completely bewildered by what was happening to me. It wasn’t until I was being processed by the prison guards that I finally began to comprehend the gravity of my situation.

“Empty your pockets!”

“Take off this necklace!”

“Remove your clothes and wear this instead!”

“Carry this blanket to your cell!”

It was only at that moment when I came to a profound realization. Going to prison is not just about being deprived of the freedom to go outside. It is a punishment because you have no control over anything that happens inside the walls, including what happens to your own body. Your possessions and your free will are confiscated, and if you lose your free will, can you still consider yourself to be human?

I am not ashamed to admit. I cried that night. I couldn’t believe I went into this captivity, right after I claimed my freedom. I escaped my controlling, alcoholic mother, and that’s where I end up? For fifteen long years? I was only nineteen, man!

For a few weeks, I was in a very low mood, feeling deeply sad and hopeless. I went through the motions of everyday life, but everything seemed hazy and unclear, as if I was in a trance-like state. My mind and senses felt numb, and I couldn’t fully engage with the world around me.

During this time, a few prisoners tried to persuade me to join their groups, but they quickly gave up on me. I appeared weak and frail, and my behavior seemed erratic and strange, making me an unlikely candidate for their group.

I remained on auto pilot, as the days passed slowly, until one day, I saw a prisoner carrying a book during free time. I asked about it and someone mentioned a library in the prison. I thought it might be a good activity to kill time, so I headed there.

That moment marked a turning point in my life when everything changed. It was then that I discovered a new possibility: that I could complete my education while serving my sentence in prison. And so I did just that. I spent every spare moment engrossed in books, using them as a way to escape the harsh reality of my surroundings.

In doing so, I found a way to lift myself out of the deep depression that had consumed me. As I read, I began to feel a renewed sense of purpose and hope. I realized that even in prison, I had the power to change and grow as a person. And so I set out to do just that, to become a better man than I had been before my incarceration.

I am unsure if I have caused someone’s death. Many people claim that I have, but I cannot recall anything about it. It’s possible that I did cause harm unintentionally. Maybe this is the way that God has chosen to redirect me from the wrong path that I was heading towards, and steer me towards a more virtuous one. Even though this journey may be challenging, I could emerge from it stronger and wiser.

During my time as an inmate, I worked hard to become a model prisoner. I made a conscious effort to avoid any fights or breaking any rules. Instead, I focused on self-improvement, educating myself and exploring different cultural activities. My efforts did not go unnoticed by the guards and other prisoners, who appreciated my neutral stance and the respect I showed to all.

As the years went by, I found myself feeling increasingly optimistic about the future. The passing of time seemed to accelerate, perhaps due to the busy and fulfilling life I had created for myself within the prison walls. I was proud of the person I had become, and hopeful that my efforts would pay off once my time behind bars was over.

Until that day, when I found out.

As I look outside, I notice that the bus is just around the corner. It’s time for me to stop writing and get ready for my night journey. I’m going to travel incognito to avoid being caught by the police. I need to take the next step in this journey. I have a date with my tormentor. The reason for my suffering for ten years.

I wonder if this is the last time I write?

*******

Jonathan had a restless evening after returning home from work. He was determined to solve that mystery that had been bugging him, and he wanted to do it quickly. Therefore, he decided to make yet another cup of coffee to keep himself awake and alert. He then continued studying the case, through the file of Christofer Jacobs, the escaped convict.

In the recent past, the cases he was assigned were mostly solved even before his arrival. These cases usually involved either jealous spouses or anxious business partners. The nature of his work has become dull and unexciting for him, and the thrill of chasing down murderers was a big factor in him taking on this job. As a result, he is becoming increasingly bored and disinterested in his job.

As a young person, he discovered the fascinating world of Sherlock Holmes and Hercule Poirot in their thrilling detective stories. These literary detectives sparked a passion in him to join the police force and pursue a career in solving crimes just like his heroes.

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He felt confident that he possessed the same abilities as his literary idols, but lacked the opportunity to demonstrate his skills. With this desire in mind, he worked hard to make his dream a reality and become a detective himself.

The man’s apartment was on the smaller side and had very minimal furnishings. Instead of separate rooms, the apartment was one open space with a couch and table near the entrance, a desk and chair for working, a small kitchenette, and a bed situated next to the bathroom. Given the high cost of living in New York City, he was content with what he had, and didn’t require more, being single for a long time.

He sat at his desk, reading the case files, and going through every document and testimony. He decided to review the prison’s files, and the police testimonies from the day of the escape one more time.

Chris was a prisoner who never broke any rules and followed all the regulations until he escaped. He was a model prisoner who showed enthusiasm for every activity available in the prison. It was evident that he had no intention of causing any trouble and only wished to serve his sentence.

The conclusion was supported by the accounts of both the guards and prison administrators. Chris had accepted his sentence and was determined to make the most of his situation. However, something happened that caused him to change his mind and decide to escape. What was it that led to this sudden change of heart?

Jonathan put down the file, and rubbed his eyes, in an attempt to get rid of sleep. It was time for collecting thoughts. He picked up his pen and started charting in his notebook. He wrote Chris’s name in the middle, circled it, and started linking it to other smaller circles that each contained one of his questions.

How? That’s the easiest one. He sneaked in the food delivery car, after creating some distraction. However, Is it possible that he had help? The car driver or the guards who check it maybe? That would have been a great lead to finding him, but it doesn’t seem to be correct. The testimonies of prison’s personnel and the car driver all match perfectly. Moreover, Chris’s file shows that he knows the facility very well. He was trusted unconditionally, and that’s how he knew everything needed to escape.

He didn’t need help. It would have only increased the risk of someone snitching on him. Jonathan felt satisfied with this answer.

Why? To avenge his imprisonment, which he feels was unjust. He lost ten full years of his life. That’s enough reason to produce all the anger and frustration needed. That raises some more questions though. How was he indicted? Was Chris framed for this crime? Who framed him? And why? Convincing answers are still needed.

Why now? The timing of the escape is very confusing. A man that claimed to be wrongfully imprisoned only decided to escape prison after already spending ten years in captivity! If he planned it all along, and was only waiting to get access to the necessary drugs, why did he stay in the infirmary for almost two years then? He didn’t need that long to get access to the drugs. This escape was planned fairly recently, and whatever triggered it is key to figuring out Chris’s next step. More investigation needed.

What? The details of what happened ten years ago are also important. The file says Chris met a girl in a bar, they went to her apartment together, and the police were tipped in the morning that he killed her. The body was never found. He claimed to remember nothing. Is that really what happened? Or is there more to this murder than the convenient police story? To prevent the awaited murder, this one needs to be solved first.

Who? The million dollar question. Who is Chris’s next target? He feels wronged. He feels betrayed by the system, as he made it perfectly clear in his parole hearing. Maybe the judge from his trial? Maybe the officers who interrogated him? Maybe the inexperienced city lawyer that defended him? Or the person who he believes to have framed him? There are many possible targets. This question can only be answered after the previous ones.

Jonathan leaned back in his chair, took a glance at the clock, and a sudden realization dawned on him that the night had nearly passed away. He had been engrossed in reading through each and every document, determined to complete the task at hand. And now, as he closed the last file, a feeling of satisfaction spread over him, causing a smile to form on his lips. This was no ordinary case; it was a challenge that was worth his time and effort.

He got up and headed towards his bed for one or two hours of necessary sleep. He already knew what his first step was after waking up.

*******

Later on that very same night, in a club in Harlem, through the loud music and cheers of young people dancing, knocks on the back door were heard by the security team. One of them opened and answered “Oh it’s Ricky. How are you doing, man? Why are you so late tonight?”

A young, black, muscular man walked in, average height, short hair, wearing a purple, shiny suit, black shoes, and a golden necklace and earrings. He hugged the guard that opened the door for him. “What’s up, Tim. I’m good but busy. Can’t talk now. Where’s the boss?”

“At his oval office of course.” the guard laughingly answered.

Ricky walked towards the boss’s office, making his way through the dance floor. Despite the pretty girls around him, he didn’t spare them a glance. His attention was drawn to something more important.

When he arrived at the office, another guard searched him for weapons before letting him in. Ricky took a deep breath and then knocked on the door, bracing himself for what was to come.

He was let inside by another guard. It was a big office, shaped like half a circle, with some paintings of famous artists scattered on the walls, and a big, ebony desk right in the middle, with a golden chair behind it, and without any seating for the guests. The wall behind the desk was completely made of glass, and oversaw the entire club.

Behind the chair, A large, white man stood. He had a strong physique for his age, which was definitely over fifty, his head was fully shaved, with no other facial hair. He wore a black tuxedo, with a big red rose peeking from the front pocket. He faced the glass wall, following the events of the other world downstairs.

Silence reigned supreme for a few minutes until the boss cut it “What do you want?”

Ricky coughed to clear his throat “Um Good evening, boss. It’s Ricky. I hope you’re having a great night.”

“Answer my question!”

Ricky coughed again “Yeah sure. I just saw something on the news today that you should know about. Do you remember Chris Jacobs?”

The boss looked back, without turning his body “Who the hell is that?”

“Ah um he’s that kid I brought to you, when I first started working for you. I wanted him to join us, but he chickened out when he met you and asked to leave. Do you remember? It’s been a while, like ten years now.”

The boss let out a deep breath and lowered himself into the chair. Then, he swiveled it around to squarely face Ricky and held his gaze for a significant amount of time. As the seconds ticked by, Ricky began to feel very uncomfortable, but found himself unable to break eye contact with the boss.

“Ricky, have I ever told you why I don’t have chairs in front of my desk for my visitors to sit?”

“Aah I don’t know, boss. Why is that?”

Ricky was punched hard in his stomach by the guard who had opened the door for him. The blow was so forceful that Ricky fell to his knees, and he couldn’t help but moan in agony. The pain was intense and unbearable.

“Because in my presence, nobody should be comfortable.” The boss replied with a smile of content “In my presence, nobody should think they’re on the same level as me, nobody should recall old memories with me, as if we’re best pals. Especially if that nobody works for me. Do you understand now, NOBODY?”

“I..I get it, sir.”

“Good. Now, stand up! Fix your suit! You have another chance to talk. Use it well.”

Ricky got back on his feet and wiped his leaking mouth “This guy Chris. He’s been here. He knows about our operations. Back then, I took care of him, like you asked. Today, he escaped prison. I thought you should know that.”

“Hmm so your skinny friend from ten years ago got himself into prison and decided to escape now. How does that concern me?”

“I..I just thought you should know about it. He could be trouble for us. An escaped convict, in need of shelter, in need of money, maybe he’ll think of coming down here. That’ll bring attention to our operation.”

“Oh Ricky, Ricky, Ricky. Problem for us? Our operation? Have you learned nothing?”

Before the sentence ended, Ricky got another punch in the gut, which floored him again.

“Your friend is your problem, Ricky. You couldn’t deal with him correctly back then. If you fail one more time, don’t bother coming back here again.”

Ricky fought his pain to stand and started backing up towards the door, while still looking at his boss. “Yes, sir. I will take care of it. You won’t have to hear about this again.”

After Ricky left, the boss turned his chair to, once more, face the glass wall. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and immediately seemed to forget all about the conversation they had.

He was a businessman and he needed to focus on business.

He continued to look at his kingdom below.