My Innocence

I have been born to serve and I have served diligently. I have lived with a family for three decades now and know them as well as the back of my hand. A horrendous twist has however left me shattered at this old age. As I hobble towards the dingy cellar window I reminisce about the good old days and a tear oozes out of my eyes and cascades down my cheek. A child, not my own, was murdered a few days back and I was held responsible for the murder.  Pray tell, how could an old man be capable of such atrocities? A shudder runs through me as I think of the cold blooded murder. I had lived with Maria since she was a baby and I took care of her as I would take care of my own little girl. What motive could an enfeebled man have for such a dreadful deed? I was a chauffeur and did not even have access to the house. It’s not cynical to believe that an old man like me will get no justice; it’s just the stark reality. I am disfavored and frail, someone who has already given up on life. Will I spend the rest of my days here? I wonder desolately.

Other servants did not like Maria because she wasn’t of a genial disposition and was a tad bit rebellious. She really liked me though. I think I was her mentor; a father she never had. How could I murder someone I was so fond of? The police are still investigating and I am plagued by the thoughts of who the real murderer could be. Could it be the neighborhood guy, who always seemed to be stalking Maria?  Nobody even considered him a suspect. Why only me? Was I an easy target? A scrape goat maybe.  Marias sister is a little dove and a free spirit. Maria was younger than her sister and they both loved each other dearly. Maybe she will free me if I ask her to. Would she go against her family though?

So many questions. Yet no answers.

Marias mother was a sympathetic woman and might come to my rescue but the aunt will surely not let her do so. The cursed woman has always accused us servants for almost everything that has ever occurred in that household. It was almost as if she was trying to cover up something else. Something big. The father was a nefarious man and will probably make sure I rot behind these bars forever. How could he not feel even an ounce of guilt? They all know I was nowhere near the house when Maria was killed yet I am being castigated.  I hear an echoing clang of metal doors. Suddenly guards arrive accompanied by another woman. Marias mother. I stand rooted to the spot, staring at her. Could this be a mistake? They lock her up in a neighboring cell and I eavesdrop on their conversation. Marias mother was bipolar and had actually murdered her own daughter.  My Maria. My heart creeps up my throat and I hit the grubby floor.