The Apology : Regret


Everyone has their own regrets, I included and as I said before, writing this is a form of me explaining my regrets in life. When I was younger, back when I was still innocent, I would always regret it when I hurt someone’s feelings both intentionally and unintentionally. However, there’s something that I don’t usually do, which is to apologise to them. It’s not because I’m too arrogant to acknowledge my mistake, but it’s because I’m someone who doesn’t believe in apologising for my mistakes. I have always believed that when you apologise and the person accepted your apology, you are forgiven and that’s the problem. I don’t want to be forgiven.

It’s actually a question that I ask myself all the time: ‘Who deserves to be forgiven?’. Surely, if I’m one day convicted of my murders, the society couldn’t possibly forgive me for all of my “unspeakable acts”. After all, it’s not one or two people that I murdered, it’s more than fifty, across different places in the country. If I’m diagnosed with mental illness, surely I automatically am “forgiven” because I didn’t have control over my own body when I was carrying all those despicable actions. Isn’t that hypocrisy? I’m still a murderer, am I? While the victims’ family and friends might not forgive me, I will still be happy because at least they know I’m taking responsibility for my actions which means that I regret killing their loved ones.

I never believed in death penalty simply because if I’m a judge I couldn’t bear the thought of sentencing someone innocent to death just because of a few “errors”. At least, if they were sent to prison, they might still be alive by the time they got out, but that still makes me guilty. I am someone who believes in redemption which is another reason why I don’t support the death penalty.

People always have regret, even if it’s little and sometimes, like me, they want to redeem themselves. Being dead would prevent them from doing unless there’s an afterlife where they would have a chance to somehow do good things. Actually, I don’t even believe there should be prisons because I always believe in rehabilitation which would help people become better “people” and do good for the society to redeem themselves of their mistakes.

“Nothing good can ever come from a murderer,” someone told me once and I completely disagree. Just a few months ago, just as I was stalking someone who has been annoying me for days, I found a lost and scared puppy who was in hunger. “Ignore it,” the voices in my head told me but of course I didn’t ignore it because how could I? It’s not the puppy’s fault that it’s abandoned, just like it’s not my fault if I murdered the person who I was stalking.

Seeing how sad and pitiful it looked, I went to the nearest store and bought some dog food. I poured it on the ground and it immediately jumped up and started eating. It followed me around and since I actually hate dogs, I picked it up and dropped it at an animal shelter. The people there thank me, even wanted to take a picture of me and hung it at a wall labelled ‘heroes’ but I rejected it, simply because I always like to remain hidden in my own small world.

As I was walking back to where I was from, I saw police cars everywhere. Someone just committed suicide from jumping off the building and it was the person that I stalked for days. From that day onwards, there was this big feeling of regret that was growing inside of me. If only I have stayed there, I might have stopped her from killing herself. If only I have known, I would have killed her instead because at least, it would stop people from saying mean things to her, such as saying how she killed herself because she’s not religious enough or because she didn’t believe in the word of God. Sometimes, I’m shocked to hear those words coming out of people’s mouth especially when we live in such a modern era.

That was why, a few weeks later, when I sensed that someone was about to kill himself, I stopped him by killing him first. “Thank you,” I heard him say to me as I laid him down on the floor carefully before running off into the darkness. I was sure that he regarded me as a hero who ended his sufferings and that made me feel good about myself. Sure, I killed someone but at least from now on, people would only talk nice things about him such as how good or kind he was to other people. That, however, didn’t remove the feeling of guilt and regret that I have, deep in the pit of my stomach. Therefore, I find something to blame it on and who else could I blame but the dog.

I walked angrily towards the animal shelter and retrieved the dog, saying that I wanted to adopt it after “feeling guilty of leaving it alone”. The next day, the dog belonged to me and I vowed that I would make sure that it is destined to a long and miserable life. I was about to break one of its legs when I stopped myself because I couldn’t look at it in its eyes. Usually, when I end someone’s life I make sure that they see that I’m their murderer but this time, I couldn’t do it. I dropped to the floor, crying for the first time since a long time and took the dog back to the shelter. I was near a train track when I heard a small kid running towards me, shouting, “My dog! My dog!”. Since there was nobody else there, I thought that the girl was lost or something and so I waited for her.

She ran towards me and I pushed her hard onto the train tracks and I could still hear her screaming in fear as an incoming train came closer. I hid in the woods with the dog of course as I watched her getting crushed to death. I made sure that the dog saw it too. It was trying to flee from me but of course, I didn’t let it. For the rest of its life, it would curse its own existence since it killed its owner.

Before that, I didn’t think that animals would feel regret too but after that incident, I found out that everything, animal included have their own regret. I kept the dog with me until the day I sold it to someone else. I didn’t torture it, of course, because it will suffer enough for the rest of its miserable life. It will regret being the cause of someone else’s death and me, I will always regret not killing it.

I could never forgive myself for that and the dog could never forgive itself for what it did too. Together, we will live with our regrets for the rest of our lives.

(To be continued)



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