The following is citation from my spiritual autobiography that I wrote in Psychology of Religion class in 2011. I claimed to the local police (Chofu-sho, Yamaguchi Prefectural Police, Japan) that my father was involved with organized stalking crime, and his death was very likely related to the crime. However, the police did not investigate my father’s death — instead, they forcefully institutionalized me into a psychiatric hospital.
My father was victimized in a serious crime seven years ago. Since it was a very special case, the local police did not investigate it. Instead the police concluded his death to be suicide, but I still do not know precisely why and how my father died. One day in 2004 I came home past midnight after work. The lights in the living room and the stairs, which were usually off around this time, were on. My father, who was supposed to be sleeping in the room, was not there. I went to the bathroom and was freaked out. My brain stopped functioning and my legs started shaking. I could not move an inch for a while. In front of my eyes there was literal the sea of blood. The blood became a clot and was stuck in the drain. It was like a small swimming pool made of human blood. On the bath tub cover, there was a disposal medical knife with blood. I was totally lost. An hour later, two officers from the local police rang the doorbell of my house. I opened the door. One of them said: “Are you the son of Koichiro-san?” I answered: “Yes.” He said: “Your father was delivered to a hospital by ambulance but he died there at 3:06 am.” I could not understand what he was talking about immediately. For the next whole week, I was strongly wishing that everything had been just a bad dream and I could eventually wake up from this nightmare…, but it was not a dream. In fact, there was some evidence that he was involved in so called organized stalking/harassment crime. Although I later tried to make the local police investigate this case, they were too frightened to do it. Therefore, the main perpetrators have not been found yet and they are still free.
I was also blackmailed when I tried to disclose this incident to the public through the Internet. They threatened me to death several times but no one, including the police, offered me help. People around admit that my father was a very kind and warm-hearted person and everyone liked him. He did nothing wrong. Why did he have to suffer like that? Why can the criminals be enjoying their free life now? What is justice? What is the truth? What is the meaning of our life and death? Nobody seemed to be able to answer my desperate questions. As is often the case with people in such a serious crisis, I totally lost the purpose of life.