This chapter is dedicated to the lovely SmilingHearts , thanks for all the generous support. I hope I did justice even though I had to rewrite the whole chapter which I accidentally deleted. <3
XOXO
Shona
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The soul is healed by being with children.
Fyodor Dostoyevsky
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My heart pounders hard in my chest. I feel suffocated and pant for breath. I sit with my hands as supports on the floor while I feel nauseated and can vomit any minute.
How on earth do someone manage to end up in front of a stupid gun two times in a single day? Just my luck! The gun is pushed to my back and I shake vigorously now.
What should I do? I don't even have the energy to fight back. I feel my body turn cold as another shiver finds its way through my body.
"I said hands up!" I hear the unfamiliar voice repeat.
Wait a minute. My eyes widens in realization. This can't be true? It can't be? How on earth? My ears must be playing a game with me. I turn around slowly and gasp seeing the petite little figure in front of me. My right hand automatically reaches my mouth.
My guess was right. The voice could not possibly belong to an adult. How is it possible? How can a small boy even be placed in this house? Where did he even come from? I didn't hear the door.
The small boy realizes that I won't be acting upon his tune and hesitantly takes a few steps back. He actually looks a bit scared now. I look at his hand perplexed. Is it a toy or a real one? Curiosity takes over me and I want to know more about him.
"Hello there, what is your name?" I ask him with a gentle smile plastered.
He shines up and his blue eyes twinkles in amusement. "My name is Adam." He answers and tilt his head to the right. "What is your name?" He asks me with curiosity evident all over him.
He is just such a cute piece with the most adorable chubby cheeks! Adams eyes share the same shade of blue as the terrorist and he have golden brown hair.
Adam have a pair of black trousers on with the same dark colored t-shirt. Why not some bright colors matching his tender age and bubbly personality?
I analyze him and try to understand what he is doing here. "My name is Sana. How old are you Adam?" He might be around four years old.
He smiles cutely. "I am five." He answers and shows me his right hand with his five fingers stretched.
I slightly laugh at his cuteness. I can't keep myself away from asking the one question that lingers on my mind.
I actually dread for the answer."Were you here the whole day, alone?" I whisper and wait patiently for an answer.
No child in this tender age should be left alone. No child!
Adams facial expression changes and he seem hurt. "No, I was with my uncles but they left after lunch. So I was alone after that." He enlightens me and a set of fresh tears rolls down my cheeks.
How can someone be so cruel? He is just a child. This place is not even safe for him. I mean Adam was in a woodland all by himself for so many hours, oh gosh.
My hands automatically reaches for him and I signal him to come over to me. He looks at my hands as if thinking what to do and seem puzzled. He looks up at me and puts the gun down beside him with a clang.
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Defining a Terrorist #Wattys2016 (Editing)
SpiritualTwo individuals and two different paths but at the end the same destination. Sana is a young bubbly girl in her twenties. With no warning she finds herself between people she thought only existed in news and movies, terrorists. Sana can't comprehe...