A Good Guy

I once knew a man, he was my old cell mate. He claimed he was innocent everyday, hell we all claim it. But something about him was different. It was a national story, you probably heard about it. A true philanthropist, he helped so many people. One day, he was arrested, with some of the most heinous charges. Things that made people here look like angels. Kidnapping children from other countries, murder & torture, accused of tricking families out of their money. The public who once loved him, turned on him overnight. No one even questioned if the accusations were true, just being accused was enough. As if they’ve been waiting, hoping, that this pure person was an illusion all this time. Why? Maybe because he made them look bad, maybe because those who have seen ugly for so long. That’s what we’re used to, that’s what we want. It’s hard to see the good in bad people, but easy to see the bad in good people.

As he walked into the building they paraded him through the streets. As he got pummeled with rocks, food, people punched him, grabbed him. Yet when the camera showed him, he simply kept a smile on his face. The entire time, down the street, up the stairs, into the court room where he was cursed. Surprisingly, when you watched the trial, the only one’s who supported him were his supposed victims. All of them crying on the side, none was allowed to testify. After the first day, none of them showed up to court again. No one knows why, maybe they couldn’t take the truth coming out. Yet, day after day, week after week, he kept that same smile on his face. It didn’t matter, the case was against him, even his own lawyer didn’t put up much of a fight. At the end, he simply asked to speak before the jury gave him his sentence. I’ll never forget the words he said.

…”I forgive you all. The people who curse me, the jury who will sentence me to my death, the judge who will allow it. You all can only go by the information you were given, how true or false that information is, doesn’t matter. You can’t know what you're not told.”

Someone asked him, why he didn’t testify, was he too ashamed. He simply answered

…”I could never hurt those who believed in me.”

He was sentenced to death. He stayed here with me in my cell for a while. I hated it at first. Putting this kind of guy in with me, I couldn’t stand him, I wanted to kill him myself. Luckily I never had to raise a hand. He was beaten by the inmates everyday for the crimes he was convicted of. At first I celebrated it, but that stupid smile on his face, day after day, no matter how much he was beaten. IT was the first time I started to believe in an unbreakable will. I finally asked him, why keep smiling. After everything he’s done, after he was convicted, being beaten everyday, even before being here. The hate he received from the public, what was that strength that kept that smile on his face.

…”Those inmates, they are here for some of the worst crimes people shouldn’t commit. Even they think what I did was especially heinous. This is their way, to use what they know to do something good for once. WHen they tell someone what they did to me, it will be the first time they are told, ‘good job, he deserved it’, the first time they won’t feel like such a piece of shit.”

…”Did you really do those crimes”

…”Whether I did them or not doesn’t really matter anymore does it, I have one night left. Some people get to be on death row for the rest of their life. They barely let me last a month. But hey you finally talked to me, thank you. Also you should call your sister. She misses you, Nathan right.

…You knew me?

…From the first night, she showed me so many of your pictures, you still look the same even after 10 years. She forgives you, but is too scared to reach out. You should know the number she never changed it just in case.

…”Wait man, how do you know my sister?”

…”You lost your mother’s house, which caused you to kill that man. I helped her get it back, at first she hated you, but after we reclaimed it. It all seemed to melt, but she hated you for so long, she just thought you hated her back. Good thing I finally got to tell you. Thanks for talking to me.

Man I never cried as much as I did that night and he thanked me for allowing him to tell me that. The next day he was killed, I stayed inside that day even during our outside time. I heard someone crying from the next cell. It was the leader of one of the gangs. I asked him, what made someone like him break like this.

…”The guy they killed today, he saved my family, paid for my daughter's surgery. I secretly told him, if he wanted help I could at least stop those daily beatings he was getting. He told me not to do anything, he gets to leave, but I have to stay. If something happens to me, how could he face my mom, my daughter in the afterlife. You believe that he said that, that HE GETS TO LEAVE, LEAVE WHERE, HE LEFT IN A FUCKING BODY BAG.”

I told him my story and since then, me and him have been tight, as if we have a secret between us. Every now and again, I hear the inmates brag about beating him before he died, I just keep my head down and let them talk.

…”Ok, man, but was he innocent or not”

..."I don’t know, but even if he was a bad guy, there was some good in him. I was able to see that first hand."

..."Come on bro people like that. Those who think they so holy.... helping people out. They always got something to hide. You not doing all that for free unless you got a guilty conscious"

... "Yeah, Maybe."