My very odd nightmare...
Where is she? How many hours have passed? I am bound. Now dressed in red rags. I know I am one of 'them'. I have been caught. Gone has my identity, my life, my child.
My mind drifts back to her new born squeal, her innocent hands, fragile and small clinging to my finger, her eyes in awe of her surroundings. A bond shared deeper than blood. Feeling her heart beat, flutter from within. Where is she? A mothers howl erupts with a haunting sound.
They hurt me. They tried to take everything away from. For now I am safe. I am locked in a dormitory with others like me. The bed by the window, sits a young boy, playing with an old fashioned aeroplane model. The window shows a peaceful world outside. Everybody blissfully unaware, in agreement or turning a blind eye. The world goes on. An elderly man looks on and winks. He has a kind face. There are 8 of us for the time being. I lay face down on my bed. I don't want to move. The physical and emotional pain is unbearable but I am planning. An old lady lies next to me pretending to be asleep. The boy is singing, in ever changing languages. A song I used know. I used to sing to my baby.
The doors slam open. The men come in wielding weapons. A large knife glints from the little light from the window. Everyone scrambles back into bed. The aeroplane smashes to the floor and the little boy cries that was my grandfathers. You have no relatives. You are alone. They threaten the old man, holding the blade to his neck. Are you family? No family allowed. I mean it was my great aunts, she's not here anymore. The man plunges the knife into the elderly next to me. Her eyes looked at me wild with terror. The last moment of her life. Let that be lesson - no family.
The men leave. The violence over and an aftermath of panic and sorrow. The little boy stands with stubbornness of not crying. His broken English cursing the men that did this to us all, vowing he would kill them. The old man hugs him and tries to calm his young heart. In the commotion the old man had grabbed the keys off a guard.
In the evening, he wakes me from what little sleep I have had in months. He slips the key in my hand and tells me to find my child. He says only one should go so it will be less obvious.
I tell him to come with me. Bring the others. He says no. He is too old but will look after the others and see they are safe. I dress in my clean red rags (what I had saved for seeing my child, I had sewn patterns over it, a peacock) and wear the old ladies red head scarf. I slip away and thank him.
I find myself wandering lost through what appears to be a ball for the people who hate us. Look calm. Look like you belong. The panic sets in. I need to run. I need air. I need to find my baby. Running blind, I trip into a young man in an expensive suit. His eyes meet mine and he knows. My secret is out. He will send me back. He tells me he knows, from the way I look and act. I tell him he knows nothing about me. He whispers I know more than you think. He reveals a red tie. Come - we must go.
He gives me his jacket to cover up my red clothes. We make it to the streets. There is a parade. Flags up and down the roads. A platform is seen at the end. A man stands proud. His escorts either side. The crowds are chanting. They hate us. People like me. The man grabs me and pulls me down. I thought he was going to hurt me. He pushes me into a bow. Ready to run, I see the whole crowd has done the same. He saved my life.
Then I wake up...