Tonight, at New Year. . .

“The rule is: we cannot really forgive ourselves unless we look at the failure in our past and call it by its right name.”

-Lewis B. Smedes – Forgive & Forget: Healing the Hurts We Don’t Deserve

There was once a guy who loved only one girl. He always pursued her wherever she went to. He was, at first, an introverted person. But his timidity slowly diminished when his love for her became more intimate and more poignant until he gradually and totally changed into a more outgoing one. He then earned more and newer friends.

With the help of these newfound pals, he commenced wooing the girl. It did not take too much time to receive her very “sweet yes.” He was very happy. He had his new friends plus his girl. And she was happy too. By the way, her name was Margarette.

Time was so short until he became aggressive. He was mean. He was avaricious. He desired sex from her. [And he was lascivious]. But she didn’t want to and he was still very adamant. He was trying drugs too. Thanks to his so-called friends for this excellent transformation!!

The girl wanted to leave him for good but she just couldn’t, with his situation now.

One night, the two of them went to a bar. But instead of taking her back home, the guy dragged her to heaven(for him, and to hell for her). He was out of control. His libido was unrestrained. He hauled her toward a grassy land.

He raped her.

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And that was years ago. Every night, he was being choked by that nightmare. He wanted to escape that darned episode of his life. Tonight, inside the gaol, he was in his bed, humming a lullaby, trying to make himself fall asleep in the midst of the audible sounds outside. He was looking at the multicoloured sky.

On his seventh year in prison, he asked again for forgiveness. For seven years, all he did was to repent. He besought her and her family for pardon. He didn’t really want an exculpation. Just a simple forgiveness for a sin he knew he really committed. A mistake he hadn’t denied.

This was all he wished for since having himself thrown into the borstal. He knew it was really hard to achieve, but he was still hoping to.

Tonight, at New Year. A fresh year for hope. For change. For makeover.

He could now hear the countdown of everyone from the outside. And he couldn’t help himself but to smile.

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By the way, my name is Gary, the narrator of the story. I don’t know if i could consider myself the protagonist or the antagonist. Because I am Gary. Gary the Rapist. Gary the Repentant Rapist.