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Title: The turn of a blind eye - part 2

by Hayche | in writing, fiction

The villagers had seen, on numerous occasions, white men, laden with bags and travelling by horseback up the mountain. The villagers were astounded; Tallin itself was hard to reach, but to carry on climbing up the mountain was unheard of. No-one knew what these white men did when they reached the caves at the top. Some villagers claimed to have heard faint bangs deep in the night and thought the caves were used as an American military centre. Others knew better than to dwell on it; these were the ones who had been approached by the white men alone in the night and told that if they spoke a single word, their whole families would be wiped out by daybreak.

Abdul Kasim nervously paced around the cave, rubbing his arms despite the large orange flames stroking them. His tall skeletal figure cast queer shadows across the cave, drowned in the sheepskin Kurta he was wearing. The boy had not eaten or slept for days, yet he was continuously moving as if unable to stop.
'Abdul,' said a tall, equally thin man, sitting at the head of the boy's shadow. He spoke in Arabic. 'You will drain yourself further. Stop walking and sit down here.' His voice was hoarse, as if he had not spoken for a long time, yet he spoke with a clear authority. Abdul continued to pace the cave.
'I assure you,' began the man again, 'food will be reaching us shortly-'
'It's not the food I'm worried about!' snapped Abdul, also in Arabic. He turned to face the man, but did not stop pacing. 'Rahman, my father should have returned with the food weeks ago!'
'Abdul, your father is in good hands. He is completely safe.'
At this, Abdul stopped pacing. He whipped around, looking down on Rahman.
'How dare you say that to me?' he screamed, unable to stop his tears. 'No-one in this camp is safe. It's a terrorist organisation for God's sake, no-one can ever be safe!'
Rahman leapt to his feet. 'You fool,' he hissed. His voice had become quieter, yet it hit Abdul like a dagger. 'You know better than to speak of it. You know anyone could have heard-'
'I don't care!' Abdul yelled into Rahman's face, releasing months worth of vent up anger. He felt like he had lost all control of himself, delirious in his physical state. 'I've hated it here the moment I stepped foot in this cave! You kill for the sake of it! You live in these rubbish conditions all year round! And for what? To organise bomb plots for a leader you've never even seen!'
'That's enough,' said Rahman, his voice deadly silent.

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Hi, I¿m really pleased that my work was updated to the showcase. Here's the second part to The Turn of a Blind eye. Again, the storyline and names are completely fictious. I'd love to know what you think of it.

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