Doorways of terror


A relaxing Sunday ended on a happy note and it was time to wash away the tiredness by retiring to sleep on the comfortable, cozy bed. It was peaceful. No disturbance, no unwanted noise, and just the perfect weather to slowly fall asleep. While thinking about many different things, I also thought that the luxury of a warm blanket is so often taken for granted. Amidst all the chaos and vandalism, home is the epitome of safety and security for the majority of us.  I looked at the frame with a picture of me with my family on the wall and smiled to myself. Slowly, I began drifting into sleep while the moonbeam shone through
my window.

About half an hour must’ve passed when I heard some commotion outside.
I got up to open the door of my room only to find my dad and mom hurrying towards the room. In a flash, they were in the room and the room was quickly locked up. I saw fear in their eyes. My dadaji was also hurried to the room. I couldn’t get what was going on.
My dad spoke after few minutes. He told me that ‘They’re coming for us and will be here in no time’ We had shifted the bed to block the door in the meanwhile. He said, “the militants have been commanded to kill and torture anyone who does not comply with their rules.”

I had read about them. They do not consider humans as humans and they have no mercy for anything or anyone. They are active only at night. They’re much more like human robots – no heart, no feelings, no language, no humanity…blinded by wrong beliefs and driven by false reasons. I knew there was no way to fight them. There was no way that pleading could help.

I was terrified. My hands trembled and I started mumbling and voicing my fear. My dad tried to hush me and asked me to stay still. I clutched my mom’s hand and my eyes wandered to the family picture on the wall. I couldn’t believe all that was happening and tears welled up in my eyes. I wanted to cry out loud, I wanted someone to tell me that this is just a very bad dream and that it will end very soon without any harm. We all crouched near the bed. We stayed there for about 20 mins, our heartbeat was racing. My mom hugged me and said – ‘nothing will happen’ I knew while she tried to comfort me, she herself was numb.

I heard them. They were marching. We were yearning for an escape or a miracle to make them stop. Something to spare us from the horror. I wondered what they would do after they have made through the door. Would they open fire? Would there be shelling? Would it be worse than that?

I could make out that two militants were standing outside the door with a troop behind them. All in their khaki clothes with machine guns in their hands. I heard the final command to proceed. It was robotic and they had also sent the final signal using the devices in their hands.

The worst was about to happen when I woke up with a start and sweat on my neck. I was chilled to the bone and was trembling, lying awake on my bed. The family photo was still there on the wall. In the dark of the night, it took me more than half an hour to finally believe that it was just a nightmare and nothing was real. My home was still my safe refuge.


“How far is hell from us?” – asked a 5 yr. old innocent child…
The most common answer to that is – “It’s far, far away from here.”

But, how true is that common answer? Unfortunately, not true at all – The bitter truth is, that hell is just about 4.203 kms away. Many have been living the horrors of hell right here in the very same world that we live in. The city has seen humanity being murdered by gruesome, heartless, so called humans referred as militants.

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