Bitter Sweet | (Published) ✔

{10} Nightmare Factory

Ibrahim Tarkan

The room was dark. Cold air slapped against my bare skin. I shivered. Where was I? I looked around the empty room. There was nothing and no one around. My head ached, pounding against my skull. Rodents squeaked into the silent night. I could feel them crawl up my shoulders, and I flinched. My shoulders shook as I tried to get them off.

Footsteps echoed into the room, slow and steady. I lifted my head, trying to push my body to move. All I heard were the clanks of chains banging against the wet wall. I tried to move my legs, only to find that they too were constrained by the rusty metal. 

Something didn't feel right. For some reason, I feared the man in the shadows. This fear was so deep that it made me tremble. My knees felt weak, my body was tired.

I was tired of fighting, tired of sick games, tired of life. I wanted my death to be quick. Why didn't the shadow man just kill me? What was he waiting for? He took everything from me. He damaged me beyond repairs. He destroyed me. This man shattered my soul with his actions and his words. This man carved all the torture I endured in my skin. He did the unspeakable.

He was cruel.

As his footsteps neared, I started to remember. Bits and pieces of my memory started coming back. Fragments started to fall together to create pictures. Emotions filed in right after the other with sorrow leading the group.

My heart squeezed painfully in my chest as I saw my parent's gentle faces. They smiled at me as they held a tiny toddler in their arms. The child's light brown eyes gazed at me curiously. I felt a strong urge to protect the little boy.

"Brother," the child mumbled. "Brother!" he shouted louder this time.

My lips curved up into a small smile. It was Bashir, my little brother. His tiny arms wrapped around my mother's neck, her hand reaching up to stroke his black hair.

Her white hijab wrapped around her head and she smiled at me. My father held onto her waist, bringing his wife close to him. His lips pecked hers as he whispered something in her ear. She giggled and pushed him away.

I remembered this. It was one of the happiest memories I had. People used to say my parents' love was so strong that no one could break their bond. They said that there were no two souls more perfect for each other than my parents'. They said noor (light) came from just my parents' presence.

Just as quickly as the memory appeared, it vanished into smoke. Dust covered my eyes. The shadow man stood in front of me. His head tilted to the side as he examined me. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a silver object.

The knife glinted in the moonlight. I glared at him. I wouldn't show him how afraid I was. His cold blue eyes looked at me with distaste. He grabbed my chin, forcing me to stare at him.

"Your arms have healed nicely," he noted.

I moved my face away from him. "Let me go," I hoarsely said.

He chuckled, darkly. "Why?"

"Because I have a family."

I felt the tip of the knife graze my skin. I tensed. The sharp object traced my old wound. I whimpered, praying to Allah that he wouldn't press it harder against my skin. His grip around the knife tightened. I knew what came next. 

I frantically started moving, trying to shake the chains off me. My ankles felt sore from rubbing against the dirty metal, but I didn't stop. He was going to hurt me. I had to get out of here.