I’m no longer holding on to the edge of my life; I’m reaching out - by S.H.

Essay Title: The Two Sides of My Mirror: Here & There

Consolation Prize – AA06

By S.H., a Diploma student-inmate from institution TM1

I opened my eyes today to the sound of someone in the shower. As the pipe rattles in the labyrinth of the building, I stretched my aching back pulling the stiff muscles that’s been lying on the cold hard floor for the past 22 months. I sat up and stifled a yawn, wishing I was somewhere else – just like the dream I had earlier on. Was it Maldives? I began to roll my pathetic thin straw mat and folded my blankets into a neat pile. 

In a cell of five, we’ll have to take turns showering. I’m number 3 on the waiting list. We go through this silent charade every morning without uttering a word. It’s my turn now. I went into a door-less toilet and hung my shirt and shorts on the small plastic hook on the wall. A small mirror the size of my palm beside it. 

I caught my reflection in the mirror and looked closely. Weird as it feels the mirror pulled me in and I fell into an abyss. I slid through the whirlwind of darkness which tumbles me around like a plastic bag drifting through a soft zephyr. 

I heard a soft rhythmic thump at first: then laser beams. Green, Red and White. The sound starts to get closer as I continue my slide down. It’s a familiar sound. No, a song. A song from my past. My vision starts to clear as I made it through the tunnel. I’m standing at a dark corner of a club. For the life of me, I can’t remember the name of the place but I know I’ve been here before. Everyone’s smiling, bobbing their head, drinks in their hands. 

A huge raucous laugh exploded from a group of guys standing in the middle of the coterie with strong liquors in hand. Why is everything so familiar? And as I look on by, I saw myself amongst the crowd. People around were all from my past. The one I called brothers since I was a teenager. The sight of my ownself caught off guard. It’s me when I was 25. Still so young. Still so clueless of what lies ahead. My knuckles went white as I gripped the table in front of me. I know what’s going to happen after this. The fight. I have to stop him, myself. I have to at least warn him. 

I tried to move but I’m glued to the floor. My ankles are restrained. Someone from my group started shouting. There was a shove, and a hostile exchange soon ensued. My younger self was reaching for something behind the sofa. A fight broke, punches and kicks being thrown and something silvery whips across the room splattering blood all over the wall. A girl screamed and all hell breaks loose. The whole thing lasted a few seconds. The club security ran towards the group. Everyone scattered and parted. It’s too late now. I see myself being pushed to the ground while the people I called brother disappeared in the unknown acting like they don’t know me. Yet, all the time, in the back of my mind, this one unforgivable act has looked – squashed, squeeze, parcelled, but always there. The happiness I had been feeling all evening subsides and is replaced by anger. 

In the station, downtown, I sat in a tiny room, wrist shackled to the table and wondering what’s going to happen from now on. A lady came in and informed me that someone has bailed me out. Surely, it’s one of my brothers. I smile, feeling satisfied. I went through processing and exited the station. Right there, standing at the entrance in the middle of night, is my parents and my wife. They were bundled together with red eyes and sniffing noses tissues in their hand. There are so many ways a family can unravel. All it takes is a tiny slash of selfishness, a rip of greed, a puncture of bad luck and yet, woven tightly, family can be strongest bond imaginable. I took a step forward and fall into their arms only to be sucked out of the abyss and back to reality once again. 

I took a sharp breath and steadied myself, palms on the wall infront of me. I’m back in my cell in the shower, staring at the mirror. Someone asked if I’m alright. I am. I quickly showered and dried myself and sat against the wall thinking of what really happened. Was it a reflection of my life? Or was it like a reminder?

As the sun rises, I sat quietly thinking of what it’ll be like for me from today onwards. During my time in here, family stayed and friends left. I truly know who’ll be the one to stay no matter what. The announcement of my number startles me. Stand-by for release it said. I walked out of the gate to see the smiling faces of my mum, dad, my wife and now my daughter. The worst is over. We’re back, we’ve suffered but everything is going to be okay now. I’m no longer holding on to the edge of my life; I’m reaching out, rebuilding it from the fragments that were left. It’s time to leave and start a new life.