Staring down the barrel of a gun, she was done, her life so close to over, agonizing seconds left, another tragic life cut short. She wasn’t afraid, this man would rot in whatever form of hell existed, she was ready, unafraid, she wasn’t going to fight this. Her eyes bore into the man’s soul, empty, dead already.
“You will be just the first you Muslim bitch, your kind isn’t welcome here, you’re not wanted. Hopefully your people will learn to stay away, but I’m ok if you don’t, I would love to kill you all. You have killed so many of my people, my brothers and sisters, you will submit to the west. Every second you spend worshipping your pathetic god is an affront to the one true Christian god, all us perfect whites, and all those you savages have killed.” The man’s eyes were aflame with hate, his voice laced with anger, and his words sharp and piercing.
Ashara had lived in New York all her life, she was born in this country 15 years ago, and under the law she was equal to this man in every way. “Why… why do you hate me so much, I’ve never met you in my life, I haven’t killed anyone… I…. I couldn’t. Why can’t we just…” the pain of the man’s gun hitting her temple through her to the ground, her world was spinning, but she could feel the soft trickle of blood flowing down the side of her face.
“You don’t speak bitch,” the man screeched. “You don’t get to ask questions, now… now I will kill you, the world will not miss you, but I… I will be hailed as a hero.” The man’s eyes took on a glassy look as his mouth curved into a grin.
“Put the gun down, and step away from the girl, now.” A man dressed in full riot gear commanded, “You have no were to run. You are under arrest.”
“Get out, get out, get out, I’m about to be a hero she was going to kill us all.” The man screamed out waving his gun wildly.
“Sir, you know I can’t do that, I don’t want you to die, but if you don’t put that gun down put that gun down I will be forced to kill you.” In all honesty the swat commander didn’t want this man to live, he had a daughter around the same age, but he knew he couldn’t put this man down.
The man was undeterred, he moved to point the gun at the girl on the ground, but before he could, the commander steeled his nerves and let a shot fly.
The unmistakable bang of the gun scared Ashara, she expected to never get off this floor, and she expected to feel the man’s wrath. To her pleasure he had no eye on the right side of his face, just a wide gushing hole. Ashara could see the fear and shock on his face as he slumped to the floor, dead.
Loud voices rang out, and four hands grabbed her and wrapped her in a blanket, as she slowly whispered, but I don’t even believe in a god.
Wow Kaden! I absolutely love love this piece!!!!! The story told from her perspective really got me by the heart strings. I can also relate to this being Muslim, and I just have so much respect for you just by writing this, first off. Second, you took an understanding into the eyes of a women facing terrorism and the way you described it was amazing, I could really place myself in her character. Great work!