Eternal: Chapter Six, Part 6

She grumbled and sat back. Jake didn’t look at her; he had unwound some but was still visibly tense. I couldn’t help myself; before I knew it I was chilling the air around him, circulating it in a way that was pulling his frustrations and hardness from him. He let himself become relaxed, sitting back and closing his eyes a moment before opening them and scanning the room. Though I had looked away, still working the air around him, I felt his eyes burn into me, trying to figure out what was happening.

“Jake,” Professor Rakins called, pulling his attention from me, “you’ve covered society. Now what about yourself? Where do you draw the line for forgiveness?”

He glanced up at me again before beginning to answer. “I think it depends on the offense. I can forgive someone breaking my heart, or emotionally hurting me with time. But I don’t think I could forgive someone who hurts the people I know, or even those I don’t, in a way that has lasting damage. I couldn’t forgive someone who forces me and others like me to live a certain lifestyle. It’s not possible. People shouldn’t have to live the way someone else chooses for them.”

“What if that someone is a person you love?” I asked, reminded of the decisions Drei had made for me, and the ones others had made for me my entire life.

“Someone who loves you would let you make your own choice,” he responded coldly. “They wouldn’t put you through pain like that. They wouldn’t endow themselves with the power to make your choices.”

“Your parents do,” a girl next to Natalie added.

“Spouses, too,” a boy next to her added. “People you love are always making decisions concerning you.”

“And they shouldn’t be forgiven for it,” he said forcibly, very near shouting.

“Even if that means deciding to put you through a surgery that might save your life?” the boy asked. When Jake didn’t repeal his answer, the boy stood up. “You’re messed up…a real piece of work.” And he left, the other girl and Natalie sharing a look before following him.

“Don’t forget the final,” Professor Rakins called after them before scanning the remaining people. “Miss, I don’t believe I know you,” he said, pointing to me. “It doesn’t matter, but give your name and your opinion on this.”

I regretted speaking earlier, it might have saved me having to debate against him. “Leirba,” I started, avoiding the hard stare Jake was giving me. He didn’t say anything to correct me, thankfully, but this wasn’t going to make things easier. “For me, I somewhat agree with Jake. It depends on the offense. I don’t know if I could forgive someone who murdered someone I knew, or tried to. But I can forgive the people I love. I can always find a reason to forgive someone I love,” I answered, meeting Jake’s gaze. “Yes, sometimes they make decisions for me I don’t agree with, but I love them, and I do so for a reason. And that reason is enough.”

“So what about them?” he questioned bitterly. Many of his peers started muttering to each other, trying to determine who “they” were—coming to many different conclusions—and how we knew each other. “Can you forgive them for everything they’ve done? For everything they continue to do?”

Swallowing, I had to think about it. I didn’t know off the top of my head. They—the government and the people working under it—had taken my mother, had tortured and scarred me, had practically imprisoned Nick—a former boyfriend and still good though absent friend of mine—and forced so many of us to live in constant fear of being found out. Exhaling slowly, feeling everyone’s eyes on me, I replied, “I don’t know. Maybe someday, I might be able to. But it won’t be any time soon.”

That sent him over. He looked to say something as he jumped up from his seat, glared at me a second, and then grabbed his bag and stormed from the classroom.

“From the sounds of it, I should be looking forward to the essays Tuesday,” Professor Rakins chuckled, trying to break the tension in the room. It wasn’t working. There was no chattering and most people couldn’t even look at one another. I hated it; I always hated feeling uneasy, especially when it wasn’t mine. “Well then,” he tried again, receiving no response. “Class dismissed. Remember: Tuesday, 12:30.”

The rest of the students, myself included, left the room; I felt rotten for not supporting Jake on that point, but I couldn’t help how I felt, and I honestly believed that someday, depending on how things worked out, I might be able to forgive them for their seriously misguided thinking and heinous actions. I hoped I would be able to do so. I would never forget their transgressions, but I didn’t want to hate them for the rest of my days.