This is a story about two brothers who are captured and imprisoned by the secret police. Even though this is a fictional story, similar things have been known to happen. There may come a time when mother’s tell their kids- not that go to sleep or a monster will come lurking around but go to sleep because the monster may be the man who lives across the street.

He looked as if he had seen a ghost. His eyes were wide open and even though his gaze was upon me, his thoughts seemed far away.”They are here”, he finally managed. I raised my eyes only to find his conveying the fear I felt. The fear we all felt.

It is not the dead I fear for they have served their term in this hell on Earth and now rest in peace. It is the living I fear for they can be far more inhuman. I am a prisoner here along with my brother. We do not know the reason for our imprisonment. My name is Ali and I am fifteen. My brother’s name is Hamid and he is seventeen. We share this cell along with thirty other prisoners.

I clearly remember the day we were brought here. We were roaming the market, searching for the items which mother had sent us to buy. The items weren’t many as we could not afford much. A couple of men smoking cigarettes stared at us as we passed by. Then one of them caught my brother by the collar and punched him in the face. My brother tried to fight back but there were too many of them. We were beaten in front of everyone. The men said they belonged to the secret police. They handcuffed us and brought us here.

No single person from our cell has been sent home alive. Our families usually receive our bodies in body bags and that is if they are lucky enough to receive a body. I am not sure our parents have been informed where we are.

We are tortured in the hope that we may agree to have committed treason, but most people here are innocent. The nights are the worst when the screams of tortured prisoners echo through the prison cells.

My brother looks at me as if he has seen a ghost. His eyes are wide open.”They are here”, he manages. His eyes meet mine reflecting the pain and fear in mine as I stumble through the door of the prison cell. He catches me before I fall to the ground. He knows they have electrocuted me from the rotten smell which rises from my burnt skin. I would like to tell him that it’s not so bad, except for the fact that they have cut off my tongue.