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Discussion in 'General' started by Ophelia, Jan 22, 2003.

  1. Ophelia

    Ophelia Rocket Ranger

    Dec 23, 2002

    No one knows about the nightmares – except maybe the guards who watch the monitors on the cameras in my cell. I don’t have them often, and they’re too hazy to remember, but I find myself sitting bolt upright in bed, shivering, with just a vague sensation of suffocating, or falling, or being chased – it varies. It’s happened twice since I’ve been here.

    The days are harder. Memories crowd around me like demons in a medieval painting, and at times I can barely keep from screaming. Mediation helps, but it can only do so much.

    Muzafarabad – Thank God I never hear that name in this country. It probably sounds like a “Star Wars” character to most people here. For me, it’s just another name for hell.

    As soon as I set foot on Russian soil again, I was arrested and taken to a prison outside of Moscow. I never did learn its name. I wasn’t there long, and I was kept in isolation. Then I was taken to Muzafarabad. It was there that it began – the beatings, the tasers and electrodes touched to every part of my body, being tied in one position for hours at a time – no one, except maybe the Chinese, make such an art of torture as we Russians do.

    They wanted to know why I had been so reluctant to leave Jack, and why I had borne him a child. I said I had not kept back anything I had learned from him, and that he had never become suspicious of me. They had taken care of that themselves, I told them, by forcing me to leave him. That remark earned me three broken ribs and a trip to a tiny cinder block cell called “the cooler.” It was winter, and I came dangerously close to hypothermia.

    Soon after that, a new guard came to the prison, a loutish mountain of a man by the name of Grinkov. When I saw him leering openly at me in the exercise yard shortly after his arrival, I knew I was in trouble. He came to my cell for the first time that night, and nearly every night he was on duty after that. At first, I tried to fight him off, but he would have been too much even for Jack himself to handle, and soon I just gave up. I would close my eyes and pretend it was Jack. Except that Jack’s breath didn’t stink of cheap vodka and greasy food – not to mention the fact that Jack, unlike Grinkov, showered regularly. Mercifully, Grinkov was eventually transferred. Years later, I hunted him down and killed him. The look of recognition when he saw me again – this time with a gun in my hand – gave me a sense of grim satisfaction.

    Jack, of course, has no idea. Would it matter if he did?
  2. Azhria Lilu

    Azhria Lilu Rocket Ranger

    Nov 18, 2002
    Derbyshire, UK
    Wow! Very good!
  3. a.k.a.Kate_Jones

    a.k.a.Kate_Jones Rocket Ranger

    Dec 13, 2002
    behind you.
    Write more, please!!
  4. Scarlet Crystal

    Scarlet Crystal Bibbity Rabbity

    Dec 30, 2002
    :jump: i read this one before the crash too. did you have to repost it?
  5. Ilikesloane

    Ilikesloane Rocket Ranger

    Dec 12, 2002
    good job

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