I guess…

I always tell people if they’re capable of being the ‘glass half full’ type, I would advise them to do so for as long as possible in here.  It’s not so bad until you realize the fullness of where you are and what has happened.   But sooner or later, the bitter reality of prison settles in and changes who you are fundamentally.  You witness something so inhumane that when the shock wears off you realize you aren’t the same and may never be.  There is nothing more dreadful than to see a human’s capacity for hate.

About a week ago a very young and impressionable young man was almost beat to death by another impressionable young man at the direction of a bunch of cowards.  The last I knew for sure was the victim of the savage beating was in the ICU on life support. I have since heard that the young man died from his injuries, but that is only a rumor, and I pray it remains so.  The man who committed this horrible act will be held accountable, of that I am sure.  The cowards who directed the violence will probably not be held accountable at all, but that’s the way the cookie crumbles.

Since I was very young, I was told to take heart when I witness this kind of injustice, for there is a God above who is just and will visit His vengeance upon those who are due it. I find myself hoping that this is true until I think about the fact that I too deserve God’s vengeance for my actions.  Then I’m a little more inclined to advocate for divine mercy.

Light in a dark place?  Maybe.

This is my eighteenth year in prison.  I took an innocent life when I was young and impressionable.  There were no cowards to direct me to do it.  I was the coward to blame.  I did the best I could to deal with the hurt I caused.  Ever hopeful, I have never stopped looking for the silver lining in the black cloud I cultivated and actively pull around with me, but I grow tired.  I’ve carried guilt and shame I never knew possible to carry and pray you never have to. The lies, deflection and denial that I created out of desperation to protect myself, ultimately infected me.  They crawled under my skin and made a bed down deep in my bones.  When I ask them to leave, they reason with me, “You can’t do this on your own.  You wouldn’t throw out old friends would ya?”

“I would if I could,” I whisper. 

“We can hear you…  Be careful, or we’ll expose you, coward!”  they cackle.

What are my choices?  I have to keep moving on.  The human spirit can be indomitable, and maybe that’s the light in a dark place.  If there is a God – and I really pray there is because even if that means judgment at least I know it will be righteous judgment – there’s a possibility for forgiveness…  Someday.

Light in a dark place?  Why not?

Anything is possible, and maybe that’s what life is about.  I’ve seen love in here.  It’s fleeting, but I have seen it.   Maybe all the love I can count on is the love I show, and that’s both sad and hopeful at the same time.  It’s like the Gandhi quote everyone rips off, “Be the change you want to see in the world.”  Sometimes quotes help, like at graduations and in presidential speeches, but they aren’t very inspirational when you feel like you’re dying.  That’s kind of a quote, I guess.

What’s truly beautiful is the human capacity to love, and there is nothing greater than that except the love of God, I guess.   So, if I am looking for the light in a dark place… why can’t it be me?

Light in a dark place?   I hope so.

I just heard the young man who was beaten mercilessly the other day may still be alive.  I hope with all hope and pray with all my heart to a God whom I really need to hear me that he is alive and that he makes a full recovery.  If he does make it, things will be a lot brighter for all of us.

ABOUT THE WRITER. Joshua King’s was the very last entry to arrive for the spring essay contest. Although he wasn’t the winner, he was one judge’s first choice, and everyone who read his entry was moved by it. I hope we hear from him again. Joshua can be contacted at:
Joshua King #69192
ISCC-F1-44A
P.O. Box 70010
Boise, Idaho 83707