The Girl in The Green Scarf

F o u r t e e n

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
SEBASTIAN

"They're not supposed to show prison films in prison, especially ones that are about escaping."
―Steve Buscemi

"What are you doing here?" Uncle Yusuf asks, but I am still trying to process what my eyes are seeing.

He puts down his weapon and walks towards me, making me involuntarily take a step away from him. A wounded look invades his face but I can't get myself to care about hurting him at the moment.

"I'm the one who is supposed to ask you that."

"This is not what it looks like," he says shaking his head and looking between me and Yasmeen.

"Then tell me what it is," I say and hear my voice tremble. "Because this sure looks like you are one of the people who held me here, it looks like you betraying me."

"Yes I am one of them, but we are not who you think we are, dear. We are the good guys, we are the future of this country and we have a wonderful cause."

What is it with this cause that those people have and think they can do anything to fulfill? The goal doesn't excuse the methods. And I know that's all these are, excuses.

"Good guys don't do what you guys do! And what did Yasmeen do to deserve this?" I ask him.

"Yasmeen is reckless, she wanted to get you killed and I couldn't risk that," he says taking back his weapon. "You wouldn't have made it outside the camp, not even with my help."

"So you keep her here until Talal gets me killed, right?"

"Give me a chance to explain please," he says.

But I already know what matters, that the man standing in front of me is not the Uncle I loved all my life and stood up to. That person is gone.

*

- Sebastian -

A cold breeze picks up from the shore nearby and I feel goose bumps on my back. I rub a hand on my bare arm trying to warm myself, but it's no use. Instead the gun in my hand feels colder and heavier.

I've never held a gun before. Of course I've seen a lot of weapons, since I've been around them all my life. What with being the son of an English general and all. I even remember once when I was young; I snuck into my father's office to play around with his things and found an old pistol in one of the drawers. It was light and unloaded and I knew it wouldn't hurt anyone but it still scared me. This one feels foreign, and it sends a chill up my arm, a good kind of chill though. And I know for a fact that it will hurt anyone who stands in my way of escaping this place.

I spin the handle around my thumb twice and then hold the gun in my hand pulling back the slide. I pace back and forth in front of the tent and glance around, surveying the area. The guards are nowhere in sight and the place is silent. Eerily silent. I'm far from the tent Hamsa just went into and I can't hear anything from inside, and all nearby tents are quite and dark.

What is taking her this long anyway? I thought she just has wake up her friend and we'll be out of here. I don't know how these girls are planning to escape, or who the person I overheard them talk about is, but suddenly I feel like I'm not supposed to sit back and put my life in their hands.

Suddenly I see a light in the distance. At first I think it's one of the roaming guards, carrying a flash light, but then I realize it's too strong and steady for a flash light, this can only be a headlight.

Instantly a flood of hope surges through me as a million thought cross my mind. I crouch behind a tent and keep my gun ready and extended in front of me just in case. The engine is killed and I hear doors open and then slam shut. I peek from behind the tent to see two bulky men walk into another tent just a few feet away from where I am. The lights are on inside it, and I can vaguely make out shadowy figures standing. I move closer and words start to get clearer.