A short story written in from Z-A about a man in an Iraqi prison longing for his family.
|FREEDOM, IF ONLY IN DEATH
Zen had just open the door, when Remi, the six year old little boy came running down the hall, and jumped into his papa’s arms.
Yul, his older brother by five years was right behind him, he was holding his school progress report, and was anxious to show his father how good he did this year.
Xenia, the sixteen year bursted out of her bedroom, and darted down the stairs, when she heard all the commotion.
“What took you so long?” She wanted to know.
“Victor, the CEO had a special assignment for me and wanted me to stay a few months longer,” Zen responded.
Under no circumstances was he to revealed his assignment details to any member of his family. “Thomas, your brother was worry about you, because he hadn’t heard from you in months, and you didn’t even think to call your own family.” Samantha, his wife had just walked out of the kitchen, she didn’t know whether to be happy he was home or mad at him for not calling. Reminiscing over the last few months, Zen had no logical answer to give her, “I’m
sorry, I didn’t call you, it was inconsiderate of me.”
“Quiet, You’re home now and that’s all that I care about.” Pressing her body up against his, Samantha wraps her arms around Zen, and firmly presses her lips against his, and gives him along drawn out kiss.
Oceans away from home, Zen wakes up, still a prisoner in the Iraqi’s war camp, surrounded by nothing but concrete, his lips sore from pressing them against the concrete wall. Nothing to eat for days, he grabs handfuls of beetles and ingurgitated them. Men had died behind these prison walls, either through starvation or smacking their skull against the wall. Life is too important to eradicated, and he has a family to go home too.
“Keeping up with the spirits, are you?” Jardel, the jailer yelled as he heard Zen meditating out loud.
“I don’t know what you are talking about.” He had hesitated for a moment before he spoke.
“God is not on your side. Fear will grip you and tear you apart, just like it did everybody here.”
“Eager to get rid of me, why not just kill me?”
“Don’t you wish, I have rather see you starve to death or at least bang your head against that stone wall and watch you bleed to death.”
Craving his freedom, Zen finally got his wish, there inside his cell, laid his decaying carcass that no members of the Iraqi soldiers wanted to touch, because they feared of contracting a deadly disease.
Burial happened months later when all fear was wiped aside. Altercations arise in Zen’s family when they heard of his horrific death and nothing was done about it, sad isn’t it.