Hostage

Here I am. Alone in this cell. I don’t know how many days I’ve spent waiting for my final hour. They said that it will be soon, and I believe them. I don’t have much time left, I want to remember how I came to be an ISIS prisoner.
I was a volunteer among others for the red cross. I’m a doctor and I knew that I was more useful here than in my own country. My wife warned me that it was dangerous and that she would never forgive herself if something happened to me. I guess…. she won’t. I should have listened to her. I can’t turn back in time. I remember her kissing me goodbye, her soft voice tell me “I love you”, her sad smile looking at me when I told her that there were children and mothers just like her needing me out there. I guess…. I will never see my child again, nor the love of my life. Dear God, What have I done wrong? Why should I die this way? I was saving a boy’s life when they burst in shooting at some nurses and patients. I wonder why they didn’t shoot me. They just sized me, banded my eyes, secured my hands behind my back and pushed me around until I was thrown into a pick up. Silently I cried for that boy. He was just a child. What happened to him? I couldn’t see what was happening around me but I listened carefully.They stopped a few times along the road, seconds later I heard gunfires, people screaming, and they brought another body beside me. The new one wasn’t as silent as I was, on the contrary…. he yelled a lot in Spanish. Well… All I know is that they didn’t like him talking so much, he was beaten and then one of them said in a clear English “Shut the F*** up or you’ll die sooner”. He cried for a while and then became quiet. Our third stop was a few hours later. I heard men speaking in different languages, but most of them in Arabic. Footsteps disappearing in the middle of a chaotic sound of cars and yells. The sun was hitting hard on my head, the heat was drying my throat and I needed a drink. I knew that I could be hit as my fellow hostage has been, but I desperately needed to drink.
– Excuse me…. I need some water please.
I couldn’t possibly ask for a ginger beer, water was my only option if I had one.
No one answered my request.
– Please can I have something to drink?
Now I heard footsteps coming toward me, I waited for a blown, but thankfully I felt a bottle on my lips. Fresh water went through my throat and stomach. Sudenly the bottle was taken of my lips. That’s all I was granted. Half an hour later we were moving again. Along the way I heard bombs, gunshots, people screaming, women crying, something burning…. At nightfall we arrived at the final destination. I was taking off the pick up and dragged here. One of them took off my blindfold, set my hands free and closed the door behind him. I heard my fellow prisoner being dragged in another place. Since then I’ve been served four times bread, dattes and a little ration of water. There were days, I wasn’t served anything and my belly hurted like hell. Now I’m just waiting….. either my death or my bread and dates.
There is no light in here, just the little that comes from under the door. There is no way I can flee, even if I can get out, I’ll be surrounded by a bunch of terrorists. The only thing I can do is pray and think.
Good God, why are they doing this? Is it for hate? Is it for their religion? Why do they say that they’re Muslims? Two of my collaborators are Muslims, yet… they save lives. I remember them saying that “Islam is a religion of peace where everyone is equal, and where killing a human being is like killing all humanity”. So that makes me think, that this bunch of people lost their faith when they’ve made alliance with the ISIS. That’s why they do exactly the opposite of what their Faith asks of them.
I’d better pray now, in case I won’t have the time later: Oh God, I’m your faithful servant. You know what I’ve tried to do all my life, I tried to do good to those who needed my skills whatsoever their race, faith, political views, etc… I wanted to be useful for the people you’ve created. Dear Lord forgive my sins and accept me by your side. If I ever done wrong to you or to any of your creatures, pease forgive me. If I die here far from my family, grant them your help and your grace so that they may live in peace after my departure. Amen.
What should I do now? Sleep? Yell? sing? I feel so tired and hungry and thirsty.
I’m hearing footsteps….the door is unlocking …. the light is blinding me.
– GET UP! You’re going to die, make your prayer.
I don’t see anyone , but I’d better get up . Someone is holding me by the arm and neck. I’m dragged under the sun… I’m surrounded by people dressed in black with their face covered and their black flag. I’m pushed on the ground.
My hands are being tied behind my back, my eyes are banded….. My senses flee….I hear the man behind me speaking in Arabic loudly like speaking to a deaf. Why is he yelling? Is it possible that I’m more worried by his pitch than by my death? I guess I am. I feel something cold touching my throat. So that’s how I’m going to die? Like a lamb? Can I say something at least? No? I feel the cold knife pushing my skin, some blood is flowing out of me. Why am I not dead yet? He’s still spea….

Author: Novus Lectio

You'll never know what you'll read next. Random lecture is what is all about but one thing is for sure, it's by the same author who wrote The Theory of Fate and Who Went Out of Africa

39 thoughts on “Hostage”

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