A Cruel Joke?

I'm numb. There's no way this could have happened.

I have no idea how it's come to this. I've been hassled by the cops before but it's never gone this far. This could be really bad...

I went to hanami earlier tonight, to view the sakura that are in full bloom. The park is just a 10-15 minute walk from here, so I didn't take my wallet with me. I was almost to the park, walking through a narrow side-street, when I smelled smoke. It had been so long since I last smelled it, I almost didn't recognize what it was. Then a Japanese kid, about 18 or so, approached me with a purple haze billowing around him, and asked if I wanted any "medicince."

I told him no thanks, but no sooner had I walked past him that I was almost blinded by a flashlight. I instinctively raised my hands and covered my face, and a gruff voice told me (in Japanese) to stop where I was, and to keep my hands in plain view. I didn't understand everything that was being said, but I certainly understood what was going on.

I tried to explain that I was just passing through, and that I had never met the Japanese kid before, but I think the young punk figured that he could get off the hook by offering up a nice juicy foreigner to the cops to chew on. He started calling me by a made-up first name (Jack) and saying that we hung out all the time. I tried to refute his claims, but I didn't have my wallet on me, which means I didn't have my gaijin registration card, which is a crime in and of itself. The cop swallowed his story and focused their attention on me. Even though I had no drugs or anything on me, and was obviously not intoxicated in any way, they were dead-set on taking me down to the station.

A lot of things kept running through my head; I've heard horror stories about foreigners who had been framed and gotten deported for drug posession, or been held captive for hours on end for no reason other than to scare them into confessing to a crime they hadn't committed. I had just finished reading an article about how foreign victims and witnesses of major crimes were marginalized by the police. I couldn't let this happen to me. I panicked.

I ran.

I positioned the teenage punk between myself and the cop, escalating my voice to unintelligible obscenities, then I turned and bolted. I sprinted down the alley and ran up and over a pedestrian walkway. There was no crosswalk, so the walkway was the only way to get across the intersection. The climb slowed the cop down enough that I got down the stairs and darted into another narrow street. I ran for all I was worth, and didn't even bother to look back. I weaved in and out of alleys, eventually making my way back to familiar territory. I had no wind left in my lungs, but I could still feel the hot breath of the patrolman on the back of my neck, bearing down on me like a bounty hunter.

My heart stopped every time I saw flashing lights, but I seemed to be in the clear. They didn't have my name, just a dark face in an unlit alleyway; a glint in a flashlight beam. But still, I cannot breathe. My heart is going to burst out of my chest. I stopped at the river bridge and dry heaved over the side for a few minutes. Pedestrians walked by, ignoring me, probably thinking I was just one of the drunks that had just come from hanami. No one but I knew what almost had me throwing up over the bridge. I finally regained my composure, and realized that I needed to get inside and lay low for a while.

I took a semi-direct route back home, unsure of whether it was more important to get home quickly or surrepticiously. I snuck back in and locked all the locks on the door, wiping the cold sweat from my eyes. I snuck upstairs and pretended to go to bed. I didn't know what to say to my host family; I don't know if there is anything to say. What happens if the police come knocking on the door? I'm a prisoner in my own room, but I still might have to face the consequences for my panicked decision. I don't know what to do, or who to tell. I'm writing this entry partly as a confession, and also as an exoneration. I made a bad decision, but at the time, I felt like it was the only thing I could do. I'm scared.

I'm on the verge of tears as I type this. It's getting late. I glance nervously at the clock. I made it, it's still April 1st.