PROLOGUE

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He couldn't tell the day from the night. In there, it is always night. He has not seen Sun light for a very long time. He misses the warmth of the sun. The pain is nothing new. He is interrogated more than ten times a day and it's the same questions over and over again. "Where are you from?" They would ask. "I'm from Oman." He would answer. "Why did you come here?" They ask. "I'm trying to find a new life."

Then they would slap his face and torture him with any way they could. They would cover his face with a black face cover and leave him to be attacked by a dog. Then, when they're done torturing him, they would interrogate him again. "What do you do?" They ask. "I'm a teacher." He says. "Whom do you work for?" They ask. Then he answers, "I'm not a terrorist! I don’t work for anybody. I’m just a teacher." And so, they would torture him again.

Sometimes, he felt like it would be easier to tell them what they want to hear. But he refuses to tell lies. He really is just a teacher.

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