Es Tut Mir Leid (I'm Sorry)

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic
One man trying to figure out what happen to him to put him in the place where he is now. And can he corrected the mistakes in time to get back to his family.

Submitted: March 09, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: March 09, 2012



Jack is woken by the foot steps. He struggles to get his wits about him. He focuses on the light beneath the steel door that has held him for so long. He can't see well darkness surrounds him. Feeling around the walls, he’s captured, he notices there are markings, millions of tally marks, prison marks.

Thoughts run wild in his mind, maybe those marks made by the people that were in this hell before him. What happened to them? he asks himself. Did they get out of this place? Fear blankets him as the steps come closer. Sweat runs down his forehead, hits the concrete floor. He starts to search himself, maybe he has something, anything on him to defend himself from the person that is coming through that door.

As he searches, he feels all the needle tracks that lay on his arms. Memories of all those years doing heroin and every other drug that can be done flood his mind.

Back to the task of finding weapons. But there is nothing, just dirty clothes. How long he has been in this cell, prison, hell?

Who put him in here? Maybe his parents; they have been fighting him to get clean for years and this is how they want it done. He remembers the first time he ever took a hit. It was at a party in the basement of Pauly's parents house in the summer 1986. He was 16, “didn't know better”. That was what a lot of people said about him, but he wanted to prove that he knew and was ready for the consequences of what he was doing. So when football player that was standing next to him in the crowded basement in Wichita asked him if he wanted a hit, he didn't hesitate to take it, and he went into Pauly's mom's little laundry room to take that first step of millions in his life of drug abuse. That first hit went in and he was hooked, he loved it. He stole, he committed robbery from friends and family, stealing both wealth and trust and almost committing murder but he knew when to stop as he got close to that line of taking someone’s life. Years flash by him as he stands in the cell, tears running down his face--he doesn't know why--ready for whatever comes. Silence rings through where he stands. He yells “What are you waiting for?”.

He falls to his knees, every emotion surfacing. A thought returns to his mind, back to the blame game. Maybe his bitch of an ex-wife put him in this hell. The separation has been stressful, battle. Married to her for, he had to pause for a second to think how many years they were together...finally it comes to him, it has been ten years and one child later.

All the fights come to the front of his memories. Andrew had so many health problems through his first couple of years. Jack begins to list them all, reciting, crying with every word. He always blamed someone else but maybe he should have taken the blame for his son's problems. This was the leading problem between he and Jamie also was the mistrust of money, extra sexual encounters for him and her. The money for the bills that came in the mail on a daily bases from Andrew’s treatment, millions of other things following close behind but he couldn’t remember at that moment.

Then Andrew came along and things changed for her, but not him. She cleaned up but he kept doing things on the side, making the family struggle everyday, prying open the rift between them.

His head falls in his hands, and the sadness cripples him. He remembers when he met her first time at a party in 1991, twenty-one years old, just out of college. Not many people were there at the party, it was early. She walked in with a couple of friends, and he was struck with love. Jaime had the most beautiful blue eyes and blonde hair he ever saw. Her cheerleader body really made him excited. Jaime had firm perking tits that didn’t move when she walked and she wasn’t wearing a bra that night. She was wearing short shorts and an old vintage looking baseball t-shirt with a random number printed on it the front that made it harder not to notice her perky breast. He was nervous to approach her, so his friends took him to the backyard and gave him a hit of the Mary Jane and all his nerves disappeared. On his high, he walked back inside the house and walked up to. He gave her a line that he always used on other girls but really never worked until this night, she gave him a smile and laughed. After that they talked entire night. The world vanished to them. The flashback was broken by the thought of “That bitch!” She put him in here to make it simple for her and Andrew to forget about him and the trouble that he caused. He looks at the door as the steps get closer.

He laughs. How long is that fucking hall? His laughter is cut short by anger as he starts to say some choice words, pounding the steel door, making his knuckles bleed. Suddenly bright light illuminates the entire cell, he covers his eyes but it doesn't help. He has been in darkness for so long, the light hurts. He is defenseless to his attacker or attackers. He swings wildly. Its spooks him and he takes a couple of steps back from the door. He stops, taking a minute to get his eyes used to the light.

Glancing at the wall, he notices names in front of the tally marks. He reads the names and recognizes several of them. Terror runs through his body from top to bottom when he sees Jaime's and Andrew's name. He runs his hands over both names, and with a weak voice he shouts, “You bastards aren't taking me without a fight, come on!” He pounds the wall; blood covers Jaime's name.

He walks towards the door and bangs his head on the door. His voice is filled with anger, but strangely calm at the same time. “Please don't do anything to Jaime or Andrew. Just do whatever to me, they don't deserve the punishment, the pain that I cause. Please I beg you”. He closes his eyes, hoping to get some kind of answer. He begins to think about Jaime and the times they had together once again.

Like 1993, when they went to their favorite band, AC/DC concert at the Kansas Coliseum in Wichita, they knew each and every word that Brian Johnson sang that night. He can still see her standing there next to him with her AC/DC shirt on, the blue bandana on her head to keep the sweat off her face and his hand in hers. She smiled at him every chance that she had; it was so magical that night. He could feel himself letting her inside deeper every day he spent with her. They went back to the hotel room that he rented for that night and he and Jaime made beautiful love, the first real passionate love between them, not just sex. He remembers how beautiful she was, in the dim light of the room. Jaime riding on him, taking him as deep as she could before her and him climaxed together. You rock all night along' runs through his head as he thinks of her, but steadily a bang at the door brings him back to his very painful reality.

He grasps at the door as the memory fades. He closes his eyes to get back there but it is too late, she and the good feeling are gone. “NO!” he shouts. But his voice just echoes in the cell. The door slowly opens and he turns around to face whatever is coming in because they aren't getting the jump on him. If  he is going to die, he is going to die fighting for what he once had, his pride. He balls his hands up into fists, in a fighting stance. A booming voice commands him to calm down. 

The door opens and he takes two steps forward but is told not to get closer unless he wants the door to close. He freezes where he is, not moving a muscle, even trying not to breathe. He notices two small glass windows at each end of his cell. They were watching him the entire time. This makes him even madder but he doesn't move.

“Do you want out?”.

Without hesitation, he shouts loudly, “Yes!”.

The voice continues, “You have to do better to the people that you love and to yourself. Can you do that? If you can't, they, will suffer?”.

He looks around, it should be an easy answer. “But what if I can't make that happen?” He knows that it's hard for him. The demons are strong in him. He doesn't want to come back to this fucking hell hole ever again or have Andrew and Jaime be in here either, but....

“Yes!” he rasps weakly, barely finding the word in his dry throat. “If I walked through that door, the deal is done, right?” he says in a firm voice. Nothing but silence.

He walks around the cell, waiting for an answer, looking up at the two windows that have been there all long. Those two glass portals have allowed them to watch him suffer for days, weeks or even months. He doesn't know himself anymore, his mind is racing, hungry for the damn answer from the voice above.

Finally the voice says curiously,

“That took you awhile. What's the matter, Jack, don't you want to leave?”.

Jack looks down at his feet, tears in his eyes, tells the voice that he doesn't want to fail and have the two people he loves the most in this situation because he can't keep his shit together.

“I'd rather sit in this cell and rot, than see my only child and the woman I love in this dirty, stinky, ten by ten fucking cell”.

He begins to fight with himself, shouting,

“I CAN DO IT! Why is this so hard for me, I want to see my family”.

“What is your final decision, Jack?” the voice demands, like he has to go to the next cell to get other answers. Jack smiles and replies,

“I want to go home”.

'Then walk through that door, be happy Jack'

Jack looks around. He passes through the door and walks into the bright light. He is flood by happiness, thoughts of his wife and Andrew come charging at him like never before. Jack catches in the corner of his eye, the door closing slowly. He hears the door hit it's resting place, the clicking of the latch tells him that the cell is ready for the next troubled man who's lost his way.

He was woken by that click of the door; Jack looks at the slow moving ceiling fan that is above the bed. Jack takes a minute to regroup. But when he does, he hears Andrew’s laugh and Jack sprung out of the bed like a sprinter at a starting line. He enters into the room where Andrew was. Andrew and Jaime stopped what they were doing as Jack stumbles into the front room, bumping into the coffee table, pushing over plants, dog scattering out of the way and anything else that was in his way to getting were he wanted to be. Jaime asks in a stern but caring voice,

“Are you o.k., Hun? How was your nap, I thought you were going to sleep the rest of the day away. We have to go to my father’s to help him fix the fence in the back. You do remember that don’t you?”

Jack didn’t know how to respond to that, so he stood there and just taking in everything that had to do with Andrew and Jaime.

“Dad can you play with me with my toys before we go to grandpas” asked Andrew in a sweet voice that Jack wanted to hear so badly.

“Sure, buddy, let’s play”

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