Framed as a Peeping Tom, but I'm Blind

As soon as I've moved into my new home, Rebecca Zangler, the white-collar office worker who lives across from my apartment calls the cops on me. Her reasoning is that I've been peeping on her whenever she's taking a shower because my unrequited love toward her has transformed into brimming hatred and resentment. When the police show up, Rebecca starts crying her heart out. Then, she begins berating me. "You pervert! Every night, you're the one peeping at me with your binoculars! You even uploaded my photos to the Internet! "I saw everything, you know! Those eyes of yours are nothing but lecherous! You really are disgusting!" My neighbors begin pointing at me while mumbling about me. Someone even comes over and starts roughing me up and calling me a scumbag. "Perverts like him should be chemically castrated!" "He looks decent at first glance, but you'll never know that he's actually a peeping Tom!" When faced against everyone's backlash, I take off my sunglasses quietly, revealing my cloudy eyes. "Officer, may I ask how can a blind man like me peep on others in the first place?" Chapter 1 I hadn't spoken in a loud voice, but the words still cracked through the commotion, instantly silencing everyone. The neighbors who had been shoving and cursing at me earlier froze in their movements, while the middle-aged woman leading the crowd left her hand hanging in mid-air. It seemed she had forgotten that it was even there. Everyone stared at me, or to be more accurate, at the milky eyes in my face. That was the permanent scarring I received from the fire I was caught in three years ago. The police captain was an older man named Walter Jenkins. He was momentarily stunned, but then he furrowed his brow and snapped impatiently, "Stop trying to scare people with that act! Whether you're truly blind or not can easily be proven with a visit to the hospital!" The woman who had accused me of peeping on her, Rebecca Zangler, briefly stopped her crying before shrieking at the top of her lungs, "He's lying! He's just trying to weasel his way out of this! How could he possibly be blind? He's at the window every night, peeping on me! Those eyes… Those eyes…" She seemed to be trying to think of a way to describe my eyes, but the sight of them unnerved her so much that she couldn't find the words. All she could do was point a finger at me while her whole body shook. "Disgusting! He's just too disgusting!" Her shout caused the spectating neighbors to stir once more, and they began clamoring. "That's right! He must be pretending to be blind!" "Criminals nowadays truly are willing to go to great lengths when committing their crimes! For the sake of evading punishment, he even has the nerve to say he's blind!" Enraged at the injustice, a younger man charged forward and made to seize me by the collar. "You scumbag! I'm going to deliver justice myself today!" Captain Jenkins swiftly stopped him. "What are you doing? None of you move! The police will handle this!" He then turned to me, the suspicion and disgust in his eyes not lessening one bit. "You're coming with us to the police station." I didn't resist and calmly held out my hands. In the next second, a chilly sensation came from my wrists as cuffs were slapped onto them. Following that, I was escorted to the elevator by two younger policemen, one on each side. Behind me, Rebecca's wailing and the neighbors' cursing of me mixed into a cacophony of noise. "Scum of society!" "Get out of our neighborhood!" "I hope you'll be comfy in jail!" I could almost see the righteous fury on their faces, as well as hear the smug delight at having stomped someone into the ground in their voices. Once we entered the elevator, the metal doors slowly shut, cutting off the outside noise. One of the younger officers, likely new to the job, couldn't resist asking me in a low voice, "Can you… really not see?" My lips twitched slightly, but I didn't answer. Another officer patted him on the shoulder and gestured for him to stop talking. Whatever the case, I knew that deep down inside, their scales were already completely tipped in that crying woman's favor. After all, one was a young, beautiful, and pitiful white-collar woman, while the other was a suspicious-looking man with sunglasses who lived alone. To the police officers, it was clear as day who the victim and the perpetrator were. Nonetheless, they didn't know that what the eyes saw was sometimes actually the biggest lie, and I, a blind man, could "see" what they couldn't. For example, when Rebecca was tearfully accusing me of the crime, her heartbeat had been steady and calm, not at all like someone agitated. Chapter 2 A bright incandescent light shone harshly overhead in the police station's interrogation room. There was also a musty smell in the air. I sat in an icy steel chair, with Captain Jenkins and a female officer sitting across the table from me. The latter was in charge of recording the process. "Name." "Charles Luson." "Age." "28." "Occupation." "Unemployed." Captain Jenkins slammed his pen down on the table, the sound ringing in the room. "Mr. Luson, I suggest you come clean! There's already evidence and a witness to prove your crime! Just how long do you plan on lying about this?" I turned in his direction and calmly asked, "May I ask who the witness is? And what evidence do you have?" "The witness is none other than the victim, Rebecca Zangler! As for the evidence…" Captain Jenkins paused, seemingly realizing that this was a tricky situation. "We're still searching for the evidence! Don't think that you'll be fine just because you refuse to admit to your crime!" Then, he spoke in a much sterner voice, as though he were attempting to cow me with his authority. "Ms. Zangler has already told us everything! You only moved in last week, yet you've harbored intentions toward her right from the start! Every night at eight, you would use your binoculars to peep on her while she showered! You even took photos of her and uploaded them to a shady overseas website to earn money! "Everything you've done is a serious offense! If you come clean now, then you'll still get a chance to apply for leniency!" I almost laughed in his face. Everything had been perfectly thought out—the time, location, tools, and motive. If I weren't the person involved, I would've believed that story to be true! "Captain Jenkins," I began, instantly cutting off his tirade, "Firstly, I don't have binoculars. Secondly, I don't have anything that could commit the latter crime. I already switched my laptop and phone to models suitable for blind people three years ago. None of them has a camera to take photos. Thirdly, and most importantly…" Pausing for a second, I then put emphasis on my next words. "I'm blind. That means I can't see anything." Captain Jenkins' breathing grew audibly heavier. "I already told you to stop using that as an excuse! We'll take you to get an examination to prove whether you truly are blind or not! Before the results of that come out, you're the biggest suspect!" At that moment, the interrogation room door opened before a young officer stuck his head inside. "Captain Jenkins, the victim is extremely agitated and keeps crying. She says she's taking this to the higher-ups because she claims we're defending the criminal." Captain Jenkin's face darkened at the news. "I got it." Waving a hand to dismiss the young officer, he then turned to glare at me. Naturally, I couldn't see his glare, but I could hear the sound of his teeth grinding. "Mr. Luson, do you have any idea how much pressure we're under right now because of you? Ms. Zangler graduated from a prestigious university, so a lot of people are paying attention to this case. If this matter isn't handled properly, our entire precinct is going to suffer criticism!" In that instant, I understood. Rather than finding out the truth, he was more interested in soothing ruffled feathers. And the easiest way to do that? Force me into admitting to the crime. Chapter 3 "So, just because you don't want to be criticized, you want me to admit to something I didn't do?" I uttered coldly. However, my attitude seemed to anger Captain Jenkins. "What sort of attitude is that? Who do you think you are? Let me tell it to you straight—anyone who comes in here has to adhere to our rules and obey us, no matter who they are! You absolutely refuse to come clean, right? That's alright! We have plenty of ways to loosen your lips!" He stood up and gazed down at me imperiously. "Lock him up and wait for the search warrant! Once we have it, we'll turn his house upside down! I refuse to believe we won't find any evidence!" The door opened, and two police officers entered to grab me by the arms. I didn't resist, for I knew that the moment Rebecca called the police, I had already fallen for an elaborate trap. Since they had the guts to do something like this, that meant that they would have done the necessary preparations. I was certain that what would happen next was the police "finding" some "evidence" in my house, which would result in me being thoroughly branded with this shame. … The metal door swung shut behind me with a deep thud as I was locked into a temporary detainment cell. The room was incredibly small, with only a hard slab for a bed and a toilet bowl. The cloying smell of disinfectant mixed with the despair that hung heavy in the air. With my hands outstretched, I slowly fumbled my way over to the bed and sat down to quietly listen to the noises outside my cell. The sound of footsteps echoed up and down the corridor as the police officers went about their business. I could hear a few of them talking to each other in low voices. "That's the pervert who peeped on that woman showering?" "He looks like such an ordinary man. Who would've thought he would do something so repulsive?" "I heard that he claims to be blind. It must be an act, right?" "Who knows? Either way, he's dead meat. Of all the people he could've offended, it had to be a female white-collar worker." Their words stabbed into my ears like countless tiny needles. I had long since grown used to the darkness, but this was the first time that darkness felt bone-chillingly cold. Roughly two hours later, the metal door swung open once more. It was Captain Jenkins, holding a transparent evidence bag. A smug smile painted his face as he waved it at me. "Mr. Luson, look at what I've got here." He seemed to have forgotten that I couldn't see. Nonetheless, he was quick to reveal the answer to his question, his tone practically dripping with satisfaction. "We found this beneath the window at your unit. It's a pair of military-grade binoculars! We also discovered this!" He took out another evidence bag that contained a digital camera. "Tons of humiliating photos of Ms. Zangler were found on this camera, with many taken from different angles! What do you have to say for yourself now?" I remained silent, but deep inside, I was shocked. They clearly hadn't wasted any time in planting the evidence. Captain Jenkins took my silence as an admission of guilt. Pulling a chair over, he sat down across from me and began lecturing me in the way an elder would talk to a younger person. "Mr. Luson, you're still so young, and you have relatively decent looks. There are plenty of things you could've done to earn money, so why did you resort to something so disgusting? "With all this concrete evidence, there's no point in you denying it any longer. Hurry up and sign this, and I might be able to help you plead for a lighter sentence from the judge." He held out a form and a pen. "Come on, sign it. The quicker we get this over with, the better it is for everyone." I took note of the impatient and flippant tone in his voice. He clearly didn't care about the truth; he just wanted to close the case as soon as possible. Slowly raising my head, I gazed in his direction. "Captain Jenkins, if I sign this, does that mean I'm admitting to all the charges?" "But of course!" "So, I'll be sentenced to prison for voyeurism and distribution of obscene materials?" "That's right. These crimes will get you a combined sentence of at least three years." "Then my name, my life, will forever be branded with the title of 'pervert'?" Chapter 4 Captain Jenkins finally lost all patience with me. "What's with the incessant questions? You did this to yourself and are only reaping what you've sown! You can't blame anyone else but yourself for this!" I laughed, the sound echoing in the room eerily. "You're right. Who else can I blame?" I muttered to myself. Then, I reached out and felt around till I brushed against the statement record. Just as Captain Jenkins thought I would sign it, I mustered every bit of strength in my body to tear it into shreds. The scraps of paper fluttered to the floor like falling snow. Captain Jenkins was utterly dumbfounded, clearly not expecting that I would dare do that. "You… Are you nuts?" He jumped to his feet and jabbed a finger at me, yelling, "You're resisting arrest, which is an additional charge that will make things worse for you!" Meeting his fury head-on, I calmly said, "I won't admit to something I didn't do. You can fabricate the evidence, or you can beat me up. Whatever you do, don't think that you can make me submit. You want me to confess to those crimes? Well, over my dead body." My words had the same effect as if a resounding slap was sent across his cheek. His face reddened, then purpled. "Alright! Fine!" His entire body was trembling from the extent of his rage. "You have guts, I'll give you that! Let's see just how much you can take, then!" Following that, he spun on his heel and stomped toward the door, where he bellowed, "Men, cuff him up and submit an official detainment form! I'll make him learn what the authority of the law truly is!" Seconds later, two officers rushed inside and roughly yanked me off the bed. Once again, I had cuffs slapped over my wrists, but this time, they were much tighter, enough to cause me pain. With the officers shoving me from behind, I could only stumble my way forward. At that moment, my phone rang. The monotonous electronic voice typical of a blind-accessible phone then spoke up, telling me I had a call. Impatience radiated from one of the police officers, and he moved to hang up. However, I said, "Let me answer it." My voice was calm and steady, leaving no room for negotiation. The officers hesitated, only for Captain Jenkins to shout, "As if! Take him away!" "If this phone call causes you to miss the 'truth' you're so eager to uncover, you'll have to bear the consequences yourselves." That had Captain Jenkins freezing on the spot and shooting me a suspicious look. In the end, though, he still gestured for one of the officers to hand me my phone. I felt around till I found the "accept" button and pressed it. Immediately, a familiar female voice came over the line, tone cold and distant. "Mr. Luson, it's me, your landlady. I'm giving you three days to move out of my house. I don't want a disgusting pervert staying in my unit." The woman was none other than my landlady, Mary Liese. Not a hint of warmth was in her voice. "Mrs. Liese, it's not what you think," I attempted to explain. "I don't want to hear it!" She cut me off harshly. "I just know that you moved in, and a week later, such an ugly mess happened! The residents' group chat is exploding with messages as everyone is cursing me for renting the place out to you! How am I supposed to rent out that unit in the future? What about my reputation?" Her voice grew increasingly shrill as she spoke, and it was filled with her fury at being dragged into this matter. "Mr. Luson, I don't care whether you're truly a pervert or if you're innocent. You only get three days! If you're not moved out by then, I'll have people come in to throw all your belongings out!" With that, she ended the call, not even waiting for me to respond. A dead silence descended upon the room. Chapter 5 A gloating expression appeared on Captain Jenkins' face. "Hear that? Feels terrible to be betrayed by everyone you know, doesn't it?" He then jerked his head at his subordinates. "Take him away!" I was escorted down a long corridor, but this time, there was no discussion happening in low voices. Instead, everyone stared at me in the way one would look at a piece of trash. I was shoved into a police car that would take me to the city detention center. Once there, I would wait for my trial. Outside the windows, the bustling city flashed by before slowly disappearing into the distance behind us. Meanwhile, all I could do was lean against the cold side door and feel my body vibrate along with the vehicle. Despair crashed over me like a tidal wave, threatening to drag me under and drown me. At that moment, my phone rang again. When I accepted the call, the calm, emotionless voice of a female spoke up in a professional tone. "Mr. Luson, I'm Teresa Kinsley, a lawyer from the legal aid office. I'm now taking over your case." I blinked in surprise. She was from the legal aid office? But I hadn't applied for any help. "The police requested it for you," Teresa explained as though she could guess my thoughts. "According to the rules for your situation, a lawyer has to be present." I understood then. This was all normal procedure, but in my case, it was a mere formality that we were going through. This Teresa woman had likely already decided that I was guilty, just like Captain Jenkins and everyone else had. She was probably going to advise me to admit to the crimes, then have me sign a bunch of documents. "I have nothing to say to you," I croaked in a tired voice. "I'm not guilty." There were several seconds of silence on the phone. I thought that she would start to lecture me just like Captain Jenkins had, but she didn't. Instead, she said in a business-like tone, "I've already looked into your case with the police. They found a pair of binoculars and a camera full of illicit photos at your house. Besides that, the victim's testimony is detailed and consistent, while many of your neighbors can testify that you were acting suspiciously. All in all, everything is pointing toward you being guilty." Her every word smashed into my heart like the blows from a sledgehammer. "If you insist on pleading not guilty, then once the case goes to trial and the judge accepts the evidence, your sentence will only be harsher." I shut my eyes, but no tears came. "So, are you also going to talk me into pleading guilty?" "No." Teresa's answer stunned me. "I'm not here to persuade you into admitting to the crimes. I'm your lawyer, so my responsibility is to defend your legal rights. Now, I need you to answer a few questions for me. Please speak the truth." Subsequently, she rattled off some questions with the cool precision of a machine. "Firstly, are the binoculars and camera yours?" "No." "Second question. Were you acquainted with the plaintiff, Rebecca Zangler, before this? Or did you have any interactions with her?" "No, we weren't acquainted, nor did I ever interact with her." "Third question. Other than your vision, are your other senses, such as your hearing, more acute than a normal human's?" That question caused my heart to skip a beat. She was the first person who had ever thought about the possible changes to my body due to my vision loss. "Yes." "Okay." I thought I could detect a faint hint of emotion enter her voice as she went on, "Mr. Luson, the police will hand you over to the city detention center in half an hour. Before that happens, they'll have you sign a detention notice. Don't sign anything they give you. Just wait for me to arrive." With that, she ended the call. I squeezed my phone and realized that a thin layer of sweat had formed on my originally icy palms. Chapter 6 Hope. In this endless darkness and despair, Teresa had given me a sliver of hope. It didn't matter that it was as weak as a candle flame guttering in the wind, liable to go out at any moment. Hope was still hope. Eventually, the police car stopped before I was led into an office. Captain Jenkins tossed a document at me. "Sign it!" I shook my head. "My lawyer will be here soon. I won't sign anything before she arrives." Immediately, Captain Jenkins' face flushed a bright red. As though he had heard the most ridiculous thing in the world, he scoffed derisively, "A lawyer? As if you could afford to hire one! Let me tell you right now that it's useless! No one can save you, no matter who comes!" Following that, he seized my hand and forced me to grab the pen. At that moment, the office door was shoved open before a woman dressed in professional attire strode into the room. She took a second to process the scene before her, then she frowned slightly. "Hold it." Her voice wasn't loud, yet it held an undeniable air of authority. "I'm Mr. Charles Luson's defense attorney, Teresa Kinsley. In a situation where my client has clearly expressed his refusal to sign, any attempts to force him will be considered illegal." Captain Jenkins stared at the woman who had suddenly appeared, his face paling before going red. Releasing my hand, he scrutinized Teresa, noting the authoritative air she exuded. In a less-than-friendly voice, he demanded, "Who are you? Who let you in here?" Teresa took out an authorization letter and her attorney's license and smacked them down on the table. "I was appointed by the legal aid center. These are my credentials and authorization letter. Now, I wish to speak with my client alone." Captain Jenkins' expression turned ugly. He picked up the documents and scanned them carefully, as though he were trying to look for anything that was out of place. Unfortunately for him, he failed as Teresa had done everything by the book. There was nothing he could nitpick on. "Hmph! The legal aid center, huh…" he muttered disdainfully. Still, he didn't stop her from speaking with me. "You have ten minutes." Face twisted into a scowl, he stalked out of the room along with the others, leaving Teresa and me alone. I could hear her high heels clicking against the floor as she made her way to me. At last, the footsteps halted in front of me, and the faint smell of paper, ink, and a cool perfume wafted into my nostrils. "Mr. Luson," she started calmly. "Earlier, while we were talking on the phone, you said that your hearing was more acute than a normal human's. Could you elaborate on that?" I hadn't expected that to be her priority concern right now. "After losing my sight, my other senses, particularly my hearing and touch, became incredibly sensitive. From the frequency and weight of someone's footsteps, I can deduce their height, weight, and even mood." Pausing briefly, I added, "I can even hear a lot of things that most people wouldn't notice." Teresa was silent for a moment as she processed my words. Then, she asked a vital question, "Have you heard anything unusual coming from the apartment unit across from yours?" My heart abruptly started pounding. "Yes," I answered softly. "Rebecca isn't living alone." Chapter 7 "At least three times in the days before Rebecca called the police, I've heard two sets of footsteps coming from her unit in the late hours of the night. The lighter one is hers, but there was also a deliberate heaviness to them, like she was hiding something. "The other set was incredibly light, almost inaudible. However, that person has an unusual gait, as their left foot lands a little heavier than their right. I think that it's a man, and he may have a leg injury." I had never told anyone else about these details, as I knew the police would simply assume that it was the absurd delusion of a blind man. However, Teresa was listening to me very intently. "Anything else?" "Yes. That man seems to be trying to look for something. I would hear the sound of furniture being moved around gently and the soft rustling of clothing as he digs through the closets. "The day Rebecca called the police, she was in an exceptionally excited mood, as her heartbeat was at least 20% faster than usual. That's not the sort of fearful response a victim would feel, but more like… the excitement at the success of a plan." Once I finished speaking, I quietly waited for her response. I wasn't sure if she would believe me. After all, these were simply my observations from what I had "heard". There was no solid proof to my claims. The office fell into a silence so profound that I could even hear Teresa's steady breathing. A long while later, she finally spoke up. "I got it." I couldn't discern anything from the tone of her voice. "Mr. Luson, here's what'll happen next. You'll likely have to stay in this detention center for a while. During this time, don't get into any conflicts with the rest of the inmates, and make sure to protect yourself well. I'll try to get to the bottom of this as quickly as I can." With that, she turned and walked away, proven by the clicking of her heels growing fainter. The door opened, then shut. Captain Jenkins approached me and sneered mockingly, "Oh? Has your savior left you? I can tell you right now that you should just give up on all hope. There are different leagues even among the lawyers, so what sort of trouble can a defense attorney from the legal aid center possibly stir up? Anyway, your time's up! Take him away, boys!" I was once again escorted out of the room. Nonetheless, this time, my world wasn't completely dark. Teresa Kinsley. The name splashed into the placid waters of my heart like a pebble, sending ripples across it. Although I didn't know if she would be able to help me, at least she had been willing to believe that a blind man like me could hear things that others couldn't. She was the first to do that, and that was enough. … My stay in the detention center was a lot harder than I had expected. I was placed in a cell with seven other people. Since my reputation as a pervert had preceded me, I instantly became the target of bullying. They would deliberately overturn my food, pour cold water over me when I slept, and even hide my white cane away. I didn't fight back, nor did I report their actions to the officers. I simply silently endured it all, for I knew that, in here, the weak fighting back would only invite even harsher retribution onto themselves. Thus, I used my acute sense of hearing to avoid the most dangerous attacks. Besides that, I kept quiet most of the time to try to minimize my existence and go unnoticed. Like a stone tossed into a lake, I sank to the bottom and waited for any news from Teresa. On the fifth day, she returned. Through the thick glass separating us in the visitation room, I "saw" her. She seemed rather tired, but her gaze was as sharp as ever. "Mr. Luson, I've discovered some interesting information." She didn't bother beating around the bush. "The apartment unit across from you is actually rented to another person, not Rebecca Zangler."