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The Arrest

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The Arrest As I sat in the pitch-black dump of a cell, all I could think of were my stupid mistakes. Helping someone, taking some responsibility, it isn't such a bad thing. If only I had known this before, then maybe I wouldn't have got myself into this mess and be imprisoned in this dump, this dump that will decide my future. I hate it how the oppressors watch my every move. I hate it how they listen to the thunderous thudding of my heart. I hate the way they listen to my every deep, quivering breath. I hate the silence of the walls, the soundless cell, making me feel like everything will come crushing down upon me. I hate it all. I hate being here. I hate being with them. I hate them watching me. Worst of all, I hate how people think I've committed a crime; making me become a killer, accusing me of a wrong I have never committed. No one believes me; my family, my children, my friends. They all think I've become a killer. All I hear in my nightmares are the taunting whisperings of 'murderer, murderer, murderer'. But I know I am innocent. My conscience tells me so. I am innocent. I know I am ... I know I am. It all started out as what I thought would be a wonderful Sunday afternoon. ...read more.


"They have taken our son away from us; you have to get him back. You have to. He's your childhood friend," he begged as he kneeled on the floor in front of me. "Please, please, ple-ase get my son back." I stood there not knowing what to say or do. Somehow, as if out of nowhere I blurted out, "No, I will not get myself into this mess, I will not get involved. If you want to get him back, do it yourself, I can not help you." I was shocked! We both were. We both knew I had always treated them like my own parents, always respected them. But this sudden outburst? Too ashamed to face them I ran off, leaving them sobbing on the ground. Reaching up to ring the bell to my house, I stopped and thought for the first time after the eruption. What had I done? Why had I shouted? I suppose deep down I didn't want to get involved, but I regret it all now. I really do. But everything's in the past now. There is nothing to be done. *** Two weeks later a similar event occurred, except at the dead of night! A loud bang awoke me and my wife; it was coming from next door; Danladi's house. As we lay in our bed we could hear screaming, the sound of dropping furniture and a baby's cry. ...read more.


I wanted to make sure they were unharmed! Out of breath I approached my house, but I froze in my tracks. The front door was lying on the gravel, the windows were smashed. Was I too late? Had my family's lives been destroyed? I climbed over the door, and called out for them. No answer. I started to panic; I started to imagine horrid things. I imagined the oppressors beating my wife and kids and carrying them into the haunted van. I imagined them driving off and me never seeing them again. I couldn't stand it, I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to kill. I wanted my family back. I fell onto the floor not knowing anything. Not understanding anything. I placed my head in my hands and slowly the tears fell onto my lap. I couldn't bear to think what life would be like without them. All of sudden I felt a firm hand grip my shoulder. I was scared to look. Afraid to see who it was. Slowly after what seemed like years, I found the courage to turn around. I saw the black, scared and humanless eyes of the oppressor. I sat still frozen! I had received what I deserved. I had been given a taste of my own medicine. With nowhere to run and nowhere to hide, I knew my fate had finally arrived... ?? ?? ?? ?? Tasnim Rahman English Coursework ...read more.

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