Chapter 11. The eleventh minute(Part one)

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wavesChapter 11. The eleventh minute(Part one)

I remember even today the feeling of deep fear I felt when those criminals were putting our lives at stake, our freedom to speak out, to decide. The whole liberty to breath.

I was following the sun setting, when the man with the scar, while threatening me with death, left the room to find another cellphone. I was counting the minutes and each of them seemed a more and more aggressive battle against my life. The power of money was winning over my model of living the life. Oliver went too far and, in the end, what for?

What for all these risks he assumed, when in the end all that matters is to stand up, with a warm smile on your face that must cuddle the hearts of all around you? I was cuddling my baby, talking to the little being about how the endless love was giving joy to my soul, how I was about to protect him, or maybe her, with all the strengths God gave me. Just as I use to thank Oliver for that he chose to stay next to us, for us, I whispered to that child:
“I thank you for choosing me to be your mother, for trusting and believing in me…”

With tears of resignation, I started to accept that for the past day I was locked in a room, while Oliver being tortured somewhere in Algeria. I was praying to God so He turned back Oliver’s competition partners, and track those who seized him. I was just a simple human being, hungry and thirsty, bended on my knees by a physical weakness. I was closing my eyes imagining Oliver’s face, kissing me and telling me “You are safe, Sof!”.

There were probably more than two hours since he left me alone in that room, surrounded by tall ceilings and lines of art. Ideas were spinning around my head, thinking that, maybe, the man gave up and left the operation, feeling that something was not falling into its cozy place. I was numbed and scared. My ration was telling me that the life of my child was more important than risking to escape from that house and losing the next step I could take.

Hearing no movement, I sat down on the cold floor, like a stoned heart, leaning with my back on the wall. I felt the need to sleep, as the pregnancy was stealing from my energy. The darkness bathing into the moonlight mirrored in the sea waters was creating a calm, mystical image, just like a goddess that comes to take away your thoughts. I grabbed my ripped off blouse to cover my tummy, allowing for the sound of the waves to clear the horrifying images…I was alive. I was grateful for the break from the hard moments when I could barely breath.

The dreams and worries woke me up when the Sun was trying to appear from the shades of the nights, and, scared, I got up like from a nightmare. Sitting with my back against the wall, I was trying to make up the pieces of a dirty game. I was still alone, forcing myself to overcome my own mind which was telling me that everything had ended, that probably Oliver was gone. Weakened by the torture, I was beating the floor with my index finger, in the rhythm of a pray, creating a sinister echo that was deepening the geometric shapes of the walls. I was following the trace of the light through the ceiling glass. It was a new day, with the ruthless moment of decision. Having decided to wait for two more hours, I started to count the minutes while passing my hands over the paints around, trying to make an idea of where I was.

“One, two, three, four…” A repellent picture having me as the main character, starving for freedom and justice, counting the two hours of helplessness grim. I was fighting with a mental fog, losing the sense of whatever I had built in my life. A correct and harmonious life, ignoring the predictable and the fatality of such situations that only the nature can create or destroy. Because the nature was the only perfect circle of life. Infallible. On the side, we were all ephemeral, and with every moment, the life was getting naturally reorganised, without keeping track of the conscious desires.

Thinking about predictability, when my lips were calling for the eleventh second of the eleventh minute, the grave sound of footsteps outside of the room freezed everything, bringing dark fears and tragic thoughts. With my eyes set on the doorknob and on the tall, massive wooden door, my heart was intensely beating in the middle of my chest, pulsing blood into all my veins. A strong crack suppressed my senses, making me fall into the nothingness.

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