Reparation

He laid there in anguish. The prisoner’s sighs of agony echoed loudly in his head. The sounds rippled through his space and pain skipped with glee within the layers of his skin. His iron chains felt like extensions of his extremities and their added length felt heavy upon the burden of his misery. How long has he been there and why, he knew not. It was only a few sleeps ago that he had realized he was a suffering entity, a being in this narrow and exceedingly hot dimly lit space. An overwhelming feeling of having been from somewhere else had recently begun to take shape, little by little, slumber after slumber.

***

Yakin awoke drenched from a hot and sweaty night. He recalled that he dreamt an unsettling dream which felt reminiscent of a strangely familiar place, dark, and murky, like a solitary prison. He washed himself of his thoughts with a few deep breaths as he was taught in meditation class, and with a refreshing cool shower, showered his troubles away for the day. Another deep breath centered him back and a subtle expanse came over his heart as he got ready for yet another day of class. Yakin felt okay taking it one step at a time, breath by breath, day after day. He felt like he was doing better; therapy and mediation had helped him learn to be mindful of his thoughts and accept the guilt he had brewing beneath the surface of his being. Nonetheless, cheating his sister out of her inheritance was not a memory that was keen on giving him any semblance of peace. When Sakina had died a year after his scam, the full breadth of his faulty character, bereft of true honor, began to lay too heavy on his soul. Reaching out for help, he thought, was a good step to address the nagging specimens of guilt and shame clearly eating away at his conscience.

He left home earlier than usual and walked along his usual path as his head hung on droopy shoulders. Looking to his right, Yakin decided after a moment of hesitation, to follow the nature trail that seemed to invite him in quietly.

The sky of that day was adorned with many shades of blue and the spring breeze softly played its silent tunes. As he kept to his path, however, a sudden attention was brought to him. His surroundings strangely seemed darker. A confused look gripped his face as a somber fog crowded his space. A sudden stroke of terror shook him to his very core as a figure in a long, hooded robe, stood before him. Yakin froze in his place, “yes? Excuse me?” he managed to utter in a shaky voice.

Silence. No movement, no stir. The figure was looking straight at him with eyes concealed behind the shadows.

Yakin couldn’t move and a fight or flight reaction wrestled within his trembling self.

“Don’t be afraid, Yakin”, a soft female voice called out.

The voice brought relief, but who was she? And how did she know him?

“Don’t concern yourself with who I am, this is about who you are”. The voice retorted as if reading his mind.

“I want to assist in your deliverance”.

“wh-“, Yakin attempted.

“Listen carefully”, she interrupted. “You are seeking help and I am offering it. However, the rules are that you do not ask me any questions of who I am, or why I have been sent to you. If you agree, then I am laying at your feet an opportunity that would save both your worldly self and your troubled soul. Do you agree to my terms?”

Perplexed but hopeful, Yakin tried to weigh his words carefully, “How can I trust you"?

“Take it or leave it, what you seek is just a layer away.”

A bewildered Yakin imagined the shameful façade he has been living in and the potentially fatal dilemma he was entangled in. After all, not only is the rotting guilt eating away at his soul’s flesh, but his actual flesh was at stake in regard to the 20,000$ sum he owed to some dangerous people. The inheritance that he had swindled out of his sister was not enough to save his life that shortened by the day as the deadline approached.

“Do not be alarmed as I come closer”, Sophie said striding towards him. “In my hand is a little black notebook that I will hand you. All you have to do is fill the pages and both your debts will be paid: The 20,000$ to your debtors as well as that 20,000 ton load of misery from your soul.

Yakin was befuddled, “What should I write and how will I find you?”, he called out as Sophie’s figure vanished within the fog.

Yakin stood stagnant near his bedroom window at a desk adorned by a red rose he had picked the day before. Near the rose he placed his new item of mysterious origin. He sat down and stared at the little black notebook not knowing what to make of all this strange encounter, and most of all, what in the world shall he write? And why?!

Ideas crept to mind, one after the other, but one was most persistent. He opened the blank notebook and with tears streaming down his face, began to write. He filled ten pages or so, starting with his young years that seemed so far away. Yakin continued on to what led him to his troubles, justifying the hurt and pain he had caused his sister before her death. The last page was a somewhat sincere apology to his sister, Sakina. Some masks are simply too hard to remove.

Yakin put down his pen, wiped the tears from his face, and went to bed.

***

The prisoner awoke again to the usual dismal scenery of his dark torture cell. It seemed a bit wider than the day before, and somehow, the light was a tad bit brighter. A strange silence enshrouded the echoes of his agony, and by that, was he able to detect a slight hope lingering within.

***

Yakin sprung out of bed at sunrise and sped to the table by the window were the notebook stood. He rushed to open the pages to where he left off, but to his shocking surprise, all the pages were blank! Not a word gracing the pages, not a syllable to bounce a tone, not a letter to show for his effort. He could not believe his eyes! Was it a dream? Anger crept through his veins and a sense of despair overwhelmed him. He remembered what he had learned in his meditation class and decided to take control. He sat in position and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths.

***

A sudden sweet scent floated around the prisoner’s dark cell. He woke up earlier than usual, and as if by revelation, realized that he had been waking and sleeping at intervals with the concept of time just starting to make sense. A sweet and subtle scent urged him to breathe in deeply. He tried to follow its trace, and with bewilderment, locked his eyes to the corner of his cell. A strange thing he has never seen before, lay flat on the ground. It seemed to be as dark as the darkness he was in and strangely attractive. Instinctively, the prisoner jumped up and rushed towards it with the chains that felt a little bit longer, dragging behind him. He held the little black book up to his face, and by instinct, began to read in a voice loud enough to shake his space.

***

Yakin opened his eyes after some deep breaths with his heart beating hard, not fast, not out of fear, but as if it were a drum with its beats radiating throughout his entire body. He rushed to the little black notebook at the table and held the rose to his nose, taking in as much of its fragrant essence as he could. Then, and as if by instinct, put his mind to pen and pen to page, translating in words what his heart was beating in tune. He could feel himself become absent but still conscious, as if an outer layer of his mind had been peeled off like the outer peel of an onion. Word after word, sentence after sentence, page after page, Yakin’s hand raced through the notebook, speaking with every stroke of pen, each thought, emotion, and action, those that seemed forgotten and insignificant, to those large enough to engulf him whole. His truth was being written in obedience to that which the innermost secret of his soul was dictating. It was at intervals that Yakin would come to himself partially, and with an agony, that almost felt like death. He could see with his mind’s eye a hideous monster waiting within entrance to his soul. Holding his conscience captive, the monster’s ravenous screams screeched and echoed within Yakin’s being, while its claws seemed to tear at his flesh. Finally, by the last page, Yakin began to recall himself fully, and with the sweat dripping from his forehead that tasted strangely sweet, got up, and slammed the notebook shut. Yakin raised his head upwards and smiled. His heart was now beating a new tune: Free-dom, Free-dom, Free-dom!

***

The prisoner was taken aback by a deep breath. In his mind’s eye, a swirl of color danced before him, as if welcoming him into his new domain. A strange serenity took over and, in a snap, he opened his eyes to a new clarity he had not known before. He found himself in a familiar room with a familiar drumming radiating through his being. He could see a table by a window and a with the little black book resting near a red rose. At that very instant he recalled exactly who he was, and with a deep breath, took in the fragrance of home that felt sweet even upon his lips.

***

Notebook in hand, Yakin, and with a newfound sense of confidence, left towards his destination. He walked a while, and without hesitation, took to his right through the nature trail. Yakin’s sense of peace mixed strangely well with an alertness so crisp like the spring breeze of that day. Leaves rustled around him and fragrant blossoms whiffed their sweet scent through his soul. Inwardly, he could feel a presence like that of an inner chaperone united to him as should be. As the sky darkened slowly and his vision began to cloud from fog, he squinted into the distance with an absolute certainty.

“Sophie?” Yakin called out.

“You have done well Yakin”, Sophie’s soft voice stretched out from within the fog.

Sophie approached and took the notebook.

“Your truth is in safe hands now as it is in a safe heart”, Sophie reassured him, “You have been absolved of your worries, friendly seeker; Your 20,000$ debt has been paid in full and your burden lifted. You can return now with everything at your feet; money, safety, or whatever it is that your heart desires, for a tear through your destiny in this life has been achieved and thus shall you be rewarded.”

Yakin knew he could not explain Sophie or what had happened to him. What he was certain of however, was the profound transmutation of a man divested of impurities and brought to light by knowledge.

“I seek nothing of such a nature now, I renounce—"

“Then follow me” she intruded, and they both strode deeper, vanishing into a world just a layer away, unseen, and impenetrable to the uninitiated eye.