|You Can't Lie to Her|
She whispered in his ear, something that made him clutch his heart in shock.
“You can't lie to me.”
The man shivered as her breath caressed his lobe. His eyes darted and stared deeply into her toffee colored lenses. With a smile he blinked, and she disappeared from sight. He knew that soon enough he would be confronted her again — but it would not be a warning.
A woman like her was powerful. She had something many did not have.
The will to live.
—
Diary 1
As my fifteenth birthday approached, mother thought it would be appropriate to begin a diary. As dire as times are, I doubt a book with blank pages will do any good. A pen is not as mighty as a gun. Of course, with the events that unfolded this past week, I find it extremely useful to write.
“You are a seemingly innocent woman,” the man said to me. “No one would suspect.”
What wouldn't anyone suspect? Why the prospect of someone like me destroying historic monuments. In a time like this, the Syrian rebels are becoming increasingly difficult for Governor Assad to rid us of. Constant casualties wreak havoc. And for three reasons I refused vehemently.
“This is my heritage! My lifestyle!” I had told the soldier.
He sneered. “It won't be much longer, Samiyeh. We're going to win.”
To this, I laughed at the man. His clothing was soiled, his fingers crusted in dirt and blood. With hair tangled and bloodshot eyes, I could only imagine what everyone else looked like. To destroy what I was built upon was something I could not picture.
“I am a woman,” I scoffed. “I am nothing in the peril of war. If I die, what will become of my family? Surely you cannot ask this of a maiden such as I.”
The soldier shook his head. “You wouldn't die in vain, Samiyeh. ”
I grimaced at the filthy man as he gripped my elbow. After I pushed him away I was promptly hit with the butt of his pistol. After I fell to the ground, he seemed to love the blood smeared under my nasal.
“My responsibility as a citizen is to protect the precious things from brutes like you!”
I had screamed. And then I scrambled away with him calling after me like an angry father. When I came home I collapsed in my bed and felt the fear shake inside my arms and legs.
They won't destroy what is rightfully ours. Not if I, Samiyeh Khouri had anything to do with it.
END
I have a few notes I'd like to touch on.
• This story will be max, fifty chapters!
• It's slowly nearing that number and I'm not sure what I'm going to do from there.
• Any ideas? Appreciated thanks!!
YOU ARE READING
HeRo (Sⓗort Stⓞrⓘⓔs)
Short Story[Completed ↓] Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be stranded in the jungle? To be hopeless in word where emotions were considered unsafe? How would you feel to know your parents have been hiding a dark secret your entire existence? Thi...
