Be Human

I squint at the milky white sandblasted windows in the courtroom before I face the Hunched Man in the dock who killed my wife and three children.

“A truck driver who drove under influence, a local newspaper called it,” I say.

It also stated that the Hunched Man heard my youngest son crying out in pain from within the wreckage…

“… But it doesn’t even cover reality.”

By the time the emergency services arrived, my youngest died. The truck’s brakes failed, the police report said. When he left jail, the Hunched Man came to ask me for forgiveness. I think I listened. I may even have given him a cup of tea he never touch. It was cold when I found it sitting on the table the next morning. Or was it later still? All I remember is that I must have forgiven him because he cried when he left.

“Today, the People ask for Justice.”

I look at the Crying Boy behind the Hunched Man; one of his two children seeking comfort with their mother. He wants to go home and I agree. I want to go home for the last ten months, three weeks, two days, seven hours and… sixteen minutes. In vain.

“But what is justice exactly?”

His daughter is sitting next to them. She’s holding a doll and evading my eyes each time I look. Still, I know what she… Hopes for.

With a sigh I place my hands on the bench in front of me and look at the judges. I’m pretty sure they know as well; deep down. Whether or not they can… Well, that’s their choice.

“I had the last ten months, three weeks, two days, seven hours and… seventeen minutes to think about that and still I don’t know. I lost my family.”

I force my tears back.

“I lost my life. But…”

I look at the Hunched Man and his family.

“I don’t…”

The words get stuck in my throat. I rise and turn away. I swore not to cry and yet…

“I want closure,” I whisper.

I stagger towards the exit.

“And therefore I have but one… Request, really. For the judges.”

It’s silent in the courtroom while I slowly walk towards the door behind me. I’m looking at the Hunched Man, who has hidden his face in his hands. The only one watching me, is his daughter. When I reach the door, I open it but I don’t pass through it. Yet.

“Let him feel what he took from me on a daily basis.”

I lower my head.

“If you really want to punish him, you will do exactly that.”

I look up again.

“And you set him free.”

The Hunched Man’s daughter starts to smile. She understands what I just did; how cruel I was and how kind at the same time. Society could punish him, but they could never punish him as severe as he would punish himself. And this way: his children still have him.