1st Short Story

“Get off me!” I screamed, and threw myself to the ground, away, anywhere further away from him, away from them. Not that it did much good. I am bound, hands and feet, wrists and ankles, blindfolded. I am blind, and in pain, helpless and terrified. I am kidnapped.

I hear Sam, my brother, groan as he is kicked, lifted off the ground, gagged and thrown into the confined, claustrophobic, dark and damp space in the back of the cab. Lifting myself onto my wrists and knees I try to crawl away. They are coming for me, I can sense it. Their footsteps send vibrations through the earth, and every vibration strikes terror into my veins.

My attempt to escape fails me. I am kicked, punched, gagged and forced at gunpoint to climb into the cab. What choice do I have? I flail around, reaching for Sam’s hand among the mass of bodies, entangled, crying and shivering. I hear him whimpering, but we are too scared to cry. The truck rumbles to a start and we tumble over the rocky, uneven ground. We have been moving for hours, not knowing, not seeing our hands in front of our faces, only stopping for “bladder breaks”, but they aren’t for us. The smell of urine is overpowering, it’s nearly enough to induce a stupor. If I just hold my breath now, make it all easier, give up all hope.

I can hear the moans, the cries, the whimpers, as the other captives struggle against their minds. You have to struggle to stay alive in this world. Struggle to keep your sanity. The whimpers and moans are enough to drive you insane. I try to imagine the world I just left, one of war and famine. We were on our way to escaping that, but I never imagined it like this. We were becoming refugees, now Sam and I truly were orphans. Never seeing our parents again, one dead to war, the other died fighting for our lives. I try to rest, but my head is filled with images of my mother, lying on the ground, her blood stained chest and her eyes rolled in the back of head, her mouth open, trying to scream. In a country like this, that’s what happens when you fight for your rights.

The moans and groans get louder; I am dizzy, lost and lonely. The soldiers in the truck strike terror in my veins. They yell profanities I don’t understand. Why are we being punished? We only want what we deserve. Human rights. But these people, these Taliban, want none of it. They have it all, but why do they deny and entire race all for themselves? But we must obey them, one rebellion and we are dead.

Sam stirring from his sleep pulls me from my Stupor-like-trance. But something is not right. His hands, are slowly growing colder, his breath is slowing. My fear hits the roof. My veins freeze cold with terror of being alone. His pulse slows, and stops, before I can do anything. I try to scream, and choke on the damned gag. I try to move, try to stumble over to him, but I am stuck.

I create a stir; I can only faintly hear profanities being thrown at me. Sam’s whole life is flashing before my eyes, my eyes flood with tears and I soak the cab around me. Sam, Sam. How could he give up on me? But of course, his little body could not handle this, this torture, this pain. Why did I not realise it? I pray, Allah, I pray, care for him. I am the only one left now. Why did it come down to me? This is the only life I have ever known, but my family was the only thing that made it bearable.

I whimper, I scream, I cry. This is torture. I cannot bear it. The thoughts of giving up are stronger, and stronger. My stomach is doing constant back flips. All I can think is my family, and how badly I want to be with them. My mind is driving me insane, with thoughts of suicide. The gag is sharp, surely it would cut flesh. Maybe I can Jump. Maybe… Just maybe…. I’m driven insane by these thoughts. It’s all that crosses my mind. Thinking of my mother, of father, of Sam, all dead, throats slashed skin blue, eyes bloodshot. I must be with them; I need to fix those images.

I Bent over and kiss my wrist as I slice it with the gag, and try not to wince. I can smell the sticky, salty blood and taste it on the gag. My brain is slowly losing itself. Slowly shutting down. I know this is not the end, barely a relief. It’s no escape, I’m just going to another place, perhaps a safer one. As I lay and bleed to death, my last thought is “I will always be kidnapped.”