Author's note: Please forgive any grammer mistakes. I do not have an editor (Email me if interested) and when I proof read, my mind corrects any of my mistakes because I know what I was trying to say.
Happy Reading!
Mystical Tattoo:
I believe in justice. Such an unusual word - Justice. People have been sentenced to death and have been freed from prison because of it. Revolutions and wars have all been fought for it. Dictators have used the word to suppress the masses. It is a word that can be twisted to meet the needs of the people using it, good or bad. It can be a tool to right the rights and wrongs in one's life. It is a word that projects hope. It is my favorite word. If I have the power, how would I perceive justice? How would you?
I won't lie; I definitely hold more than a few grudges in my eighteen years of living. How could I not? I have been ostracized by everyone in my life. At school, I had a complete lack of confidence. I couldn't communicate with anyone. Jocks only talked about sports, bodily function jokes, and girls. The intelligent crowd only talked about scientific nonsense and roleplaying. I didn't even know if I wanted to go to college, let alone what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. And forget about having a girlfriend. No woman thinks tall, gangly, and awkward looking is attractive, especially the teenage girls who succumb to peer pressure on who they should date. Because no one held the same interests as me, I was labeled 'weird' by my fellow students. In retrospect, I suppose that was for the better because I wasn't taunted or bullied, however there is something to be said about being noticed, even if it is in the negative. I was a social leper.
My home life wasn't any better. My father resents me because my hobbies don't include 'macho' activities such as football or automobiles. He, of course, influenced my mother so she practices 'tough' love just to ensure I won't become interested in other men. Because of my hobbies of art and books, they are certain I am headed down the so called 'devils path' of life (as if cracking a belt against someone's ass for listening to classical music would change a person's sexual preference). I've tried everything to convince them of the truth from denying the accusation to hiring a hooker to play my girlfriend for a day. Nothing worked.
The only positive I can fall back on is spring break. I was stunned that I convinced my parents to let me travel to Japan. At first, my dad was dead set against it. If he was sending me anywhere, Cancun was where I should go so I could ogle girls in bikinis, get drunk like a man, and hopefully be hammered enough to be laid by a female. I told them "Never mind, I'll just stay in my room and spend my time with Dostoevsky and Chopin." That got my mother to say, "Just let him go. At least he'll be out of the house." My father caved, giving himself his own silver lining to save face, "Being alone for the week in a foreign country will put some hair on your chest."
The week in Japan was spectacular. I chose to go to the city of Osaka. It is a big city that has lots to offer: entertainment, museums, parks, shrines, and has been called the food capital of the world. My time was well spent, mostly with my mouth agape at the wonders around me, enjoying all that the Japanese culture had to offer. On my last night, I just couldn't seem to make it to my hotel. Not that I was lost, it was just that I wanted to see more. Day became evening, evening became dusk, and dusk became night but still, I had a never say die attitude. I didn't care about the hour. I could sleep on the plane tomorrow.
I woke up. That is the only positive I can say about today, and I just opened my eyes. My head was pounding something fierce as I put my hand to my forehead, as if that would suddenly cure my hangover. The worst part about my dilemma is that I didn't have any idea where I was and the alleyway I was in, left no clues. Oh, I knew where I was supposed to be, on a plane that should be leaving the tarmac from Osaka's Kansai airport right about now and heading back to the states. Actually, the worst part will be the scolding I receive from my parents for missing said flight and when I do get home, my dad's subsequent punishment of me. He's going to kill me. My mom will make sure I'm all right first saying, "Oh my baby, are you okay? I never should've let you go to Japan for spring break by yourself," and then she'd probably only ground me for life. Just something I can look forward to.
I peeled myself off the concrete, bracing myself against the building. I staggered toward the road, finally getting my bearings as I reached it, trying to remember just what in the hell happened. My recollection of the prior night's events was scarce to say the least. I recollect that I was late night sightseeing - with this being my last day, how could I not? - and I wound up at Sumiyoshi taisha, one of the oldest Shinto shrines ever built. From there I recall meeting an old man, Togashi something or other and he convinced me to drink sake with him. Odd because I never drank before in my life. Wait. Didn't he have a needle? What did he use the needle for? I frantically checked my arms for the possibility that something had been injected into them. I was grateful I saw none, but to be honest, my sight was still slightly blurry.
As I stumbled into the main road, I realized I was in the Sumiyoshi ward in Osaka. A worry filled taxi ride to the airport and the purchase of another ticket home that didn't leave until tomorrow left me staring at my phone. It was a phone call I didn't want to make. I took a deep breath as I hit the green button.
"Sheldon, where are you at?" Dad's voice told me he was none too pleased. "You should be on a plane home right now."
"Uh, hi dad, had a little problem here. I'm sorry but I'm going to be delayed a day."
"Sorry? You're damn right you're sorry. I swear, I let your mother talk me into letting you go to another country and now this! I knew you still weren't a man, too irresponsible. Probably why you don't have any friends either, sissy boy."
"I'm sorry, dad. You're right."
"Your God damn right, I'm right. Just know that you have an ass whoopin' waiting for you when you get home."
"Yes, sir." I shook my head. 'I wish my father could be more forgiving.' With that thought, I screamed. My body tightened as a burning sensation seemingly coming from the fires of hell was scorching my back.
"Sheldon, are you all right? What happened?"
Suddenly, the pain was gone. Eerie. "Yeah, I'm fine. I apologize again and I'll be on my way home tomorrow."
"Listen son," Dad's voice went to a tone I am not used hearing. In fact, it was a tone I never heard from him before. It was comfort. "I know you're sorry, so we'll forget the belt this time. Just get home safely, all right."
That was the oddest thing I have ever heard. Not the words themselves, but from whom the words came from. "Uh, okay dad. I'll see you when I get home."
I went back to my hotel and from then until it was time to go to the airport all I could think about was my father. He never spoke to me that way before. I concluded he was biding his time. He'd be calm and collected and when my guard was down, BAM, he'd strike like an Inland Taipan snake in the outback. He'd be just as lethal too.
As I took my first class aisle seat, I was grateful of my frugal nature. It's not that I don't want to spend money, it's just that I don't have anyone to spend it on or go anywhere with. But it did allow me the ability to purchase this ticket, as there were no more seats available in coach. I settled into my chair, hoping to sleep for most of my long flight.
I was startled awake by the flight attendant asking the passenger next to me if he wanted beef or chicken for his inflight meal. To be more precise, she ran over my outstretched foot with her cart. I groaned and removed my leg from the aisle.
"I apologize sir. I didn't see you there. I'm Pam and I'll be taking care of you today."
