13 Musa - My son

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How can Brad say he can only release 50 children out of 700. I mean, seriously? Isn't he like the moron who feed the dogs back home? I totally lost all hopes when I heard it. And rest of the day I couldn't concentrate on any work. What if I cant let the children release?

Getting the children back to their family is one of the reason I decided to do this self sacrifice. But what if I cant do it? They will come after me, sooner or latter. They are still in shock or in denial of what I have with me. At least I'd like to know the children are safe before my time is up. I have drafted my will long ago. I don't have anything but what ever I have will go directly to the orphanage.

I came home and had a quick shower. After I prepared something to eat, I heard the bell ring. I know who it is.

"Come in" I said casually.

I hate Brad, there is no doubt in it. But every time I look at his eyes, his dimples and that twinkle in his eyes, I remember someone I loved more than life itself. And that disturb me more than anything.

Brad walked in and sat on the sofa while I sat opposite him. We were silent for a while.

"Is there anyway I can persuade you to stop this suicide mission?" finally he asked.

I smiled at him. How can he even ask? What do I have to live for if not for this?

"No Brad. You cant. You see, I have nothing to lose. My only hope is I take few of you along with me when I go, but there is no turning back now. Not when I landed myself in a gold mine"

"I cant get more than 50 children released. I tried but so many levels of refusal"

"Tell me Brad, what did these children do? Leave the adults aside, but why abuse these children? why kill them?" I can hear myself getting emotional. I need to have a strong hold or I might end up crying.

"Hayah, it might be difficult for you to believe but I tried. I am against imprisonment of any children. I have told it before and I have tried it this time as well. But 50 is all you get. Now can you take the bug off from my company system? Today is the 3rd day we aren't working" he said.

"No, I will not do it for 50 children. Get me at least 200 children released and I will do it right away" I told him stubbornly.

I saw him rub his forehead. The he opened a bag he was carrying and took a file out. And he extended it to me.

"What is it?" I asked him.

"Maybe you can tell me" he said. What the hell does that mean? But I didn't take the file. So he opened the file.

"Who is this?" he extended a photo and my heart stopped. Musa.

After I was raped and dumped in a critical condition, it took some weeks to recover. At first, my mother believed I wouldn't live and I believed it too. I had severe internal injuries. But I survived and that is when we decided to move to some other part of village where we can live peacefully without people pitying us.

I am still traumatized by what happened. I keep lights on when sleeping. I have camera fixed all over the house. I have noise detectors and all form of security measures. I don't travel at night. I cant be touched. I mean, no one can hug me or so much as randomly touch my hand without me going to a panic attack. Maybe I have to live like this forever.

After 2 months, I was sick again and it is then I realized I was pregnant. My mother was insisting I get an abortion but I couldn't. I simply couldn't kill the life inside me. I tried to but I couldn't.

So my son Musa Ahmed was born after 10 months. My son, my world and my life.

"Where did you get this pic from?" I grabbed the pic and asked him.

Hate Thy Neighbor (A Palestinian's fight against the world)Wo Geschichten leben. Entdecke jetzt