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Veronica
This feels wrong, it’s all wrong, I know that I shouldn’t be here. Anxiety zig zags and darts through my body as I survey the scene in front of me. This isn’t like anything I’ve ever had to do before, nor is it something I expected to. I guess when I dreamed of becoming a journalist, I didn’t think about the negative jobs I would end up completing, I only considered the more exciting, glamorous ones. This right now, it’s hell. I can see why I shouldn’t be here. In among all these violent criminals, I hate every choice that I’ve made so far.
I dart my eyes towards Christopher to see that he’s paled to
o. He managed to negotiate with Oliver that we come back home once this job is done because we’ll all be worn out by then, and he’s done it so at least we have that to look forward to. The idea of home is really the only thing that’s gotten us this far, but even that doesn’t feel like enough right now. As I’m staring into what feels like the pit of death, nothing is worth this.
“So, erm, where do you w… want us to set up?” I stammer to the interpreter. He also has an odd expression on his face like he isn’t too keen on being here, but he turns to ask my question. I wait as patiently as I can manage for him to get back to me, but the entire time my brain is screaming at me to run. My survival instincts well and truly do not want me to be here. If only I thought I could run fast enough, I would be gone! Out of here.
“I think they would like you over here at this table.” He points and we move. “Yes, there.”
I don’t know what channel eleven came up with in the end, I didn’t ever brave watching it because I didn’t want to know what we were letting ourselves in for today, but it’s probably better than this. The best we could come up with is an ex Taliban member who’s escaped that lifestyle and now wants to share it. It isn’t diving into the belly of the beast and dealing with the real monsters, but as far as I’m concerned, it’s bad enough. This is still someone – or a few people, I’m not too sure on that part, there seems to be some miscommunication along the way – who has done terrible things. I understand this is news and what people want to know, it’s also what the Government wants them to know so everyone gets on the same page with regards to the war, but I’m still afraid.
All the reassurances in the world cannot get rid of this fear. It’s with me throughout. But, if I can calm it down for long enough to just get through it then I can go back home and I can get my relationship back on track. If I slide my eyes closed for a brief second, I think of him, then I have something to fight for.
“Okay.” I breathe out a very deep sigh. “Let’s get on with this then. Are you ready, Christopher?”
He nods slowly, looking more unsure than anyone I’ve ever seen in my life, then he sets the camera up. He works along the sound guy and another technical worker to get everything in place. While they work I pointlessly adjust my outfit just to give me something to do with my hands. I need to keep my insides as calm as I possibly can. I don’t think showing any weakness will work to my advantage here. I need to be cool, calm, and professional. I want to show these people that I mean business. Not that I think it’ll help much.
Breathe… just breathe… keep on breathing… In, out, in, out, in, out…
As Christopher nods at me, the room suddenly fills up. It isn’t a big room anyway, just a tiny little shack in the middle of nowhere, so these added bodies feel ridiculous. I feel cramped, squashed, and even more frightened than before. All of a sudden, I feel small and stupid. I’m definitely sure that I should have run now. As I dart my eyes around the room, I don’t see any way out. I don’t know if it’s intentional but we’re blocked in.
“Sh… shall we do this then?” I stammer out in a quest and squeaky voice. “Get this done now?”
No one seems certain but we all take our positions and try to get ready. The man who I assume I’m about to interview takes his seat in front of me. His face is mostly covered so I can barely see him, but I do spot a glint of something in his eyes. Instincts tell me that it’s evil, I just hope to God I’m wrong. He might have been evil once upon a time, but the fact that he’s here means he’s changed. It has to mean that. I don’t know what to think if it doesn’t. Even so, I can’t look at him for too long, my eyes flicker to Christopher instead. He’s the only person I can fully trust in this room, I need him, I want his reassurance. I wish he could tell me that it’s all going to be okay. But all I get back is a blankness from him, a dullness. He doesn’t think it’s okay. Which means it isn’t.
I shuffle uncomfortably in my seat, trying to zone my brain. There is no escape now, not until the interview is done. Thinking about anything other than that won’t help anyone, once my head is in the game, we’re practically on that plane home. All of us can get out of this. It’s down to me to make that happen sooner rather than later.
I nod to the translator, telling him that it’s time to go, and he gives me a sharp nod back. It’s time…
“Thank you for meeting with…”
Those are the only words I get out before a banging sound rings through my brain. It leaves me frozen in shock, stunned to the core, so much so that it takes me a few moments to recognize what’s actually going on. That isn’t just banging, a random sound that connects to nothing, it’s gun shots and bullets that are flying everywhere.
A shrill sound bursts free from my chest, tearing my lungs apart as blood splashes up the walls. The translator is dead, his brains are all up the wall, blood splatters everywhere. I watch in shock and horror as his headless body slumps to the ground, creating even more of a mess. It’s like watching a horror movie come to life.
The screaming continues. I can tell that it’s coming from me but I can’t seem to stop it. My mouth is out of control, running so loudly it’ll end up getting me killed. Since I’m clearly going to die anyway, that doesn’t help.
The men yell and scream out words I don’t understand and since the translator is dead I won’t ever get to. I hit the floor hard, causing a pain to radiate right through me, but it’s better than being in the shower of bullets that reign above my head. These men have some serious weapons and they want us dead. We didn’t stand a chance. We should never have come here, I knew that. I sensed it immediately as soon as Oliver suggested it.
My brain transports from this room all the way to Oliver. I wonder what he’ll say when he realizes that he got his work force killed. I imagine he’ll care, a little bit, but he is a bit of a pig. He will probably be more annoyed that he has to hire more people than anything else… oh my God, what am I even doing? I need to get out.
I crawl along the floor, taking care not to bump into anyone’s legs as I go. I don’t know who’s a friend or foe in this mess. The one person I need to get to is Christopher. I want him to live so we can escape this together. I know where he is in the room, just about, I was aware of his whereabouts, but I didn’t plan to get to him like this.
Hot tears stream down my face as I crawl. All I want to do is cover my ears to block the sound out, but I can’t. I have to keep on going, I need to crawl through this war… just like the war Jordan found himself in.
No, I cannot think about Jordan right now, not unless I want to crumble. I need to block him out to keep strong.
“Argh fuck!” A rough pair of arms hook under me and yank me upright. Whoever it is isn’t being gentle with me, but if it’s Christopher then I don’t care. He’ll be saving me. Unfortunately, it quickly becomes very obvious that it isn’t someone I know after all. As a metallic sensation presses up against my temple, I know that I’m dead. The end of my life has come, and I can’t help but sob like a freaking baby. My face is as wet as my thighs.
More gruff yelling rings out in my ears, making me shake and shiver. I want to squeeze my eyes shut and block the world out while I die, but something keeps my eyes open, and I suddenly realize what. It’s Christopher. I can see him, he’s there looking at me, staring at me with wide shocked eyes. I think he might want to help me but he doesn’t know how. He has no idea what to do which I can’t blame him for. Much as I want to scream at him to just get me the fuck out of here I know it isn’t that simple. We might even be the only two left.”
“P… please?” I beg, despite knowing that it’s pointless. These men can’t understand me and it’s very obvious they wouldn’t care even if they could. “Please… let me go, get me out of here…”
Another guy grabs Christopher and puts him in the same position as me. We stare at each other with guns against our temples. The men clinging to us laugh and joke among each other, showing their blatant disregard for human life. The tears stream more violently and I look pleadingly at my friend, my support.
“I’m sorry,” I mouth to him. This might not be my fault, but I am sorry that he’s going to die.
