Defining a Terrorist #Wattys2016 (Editing)

Chapter 1: Introduction of the Boy behind the mask and Sana

Welcome to a new journey lovely reader, hope you enjoy and don't forget to leave some feedback :)!

Love
Shona

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Who knows what true loneliness is - not the conventional word but the naked terror? To the lonely themselves it wears a mask. The most miserable outcast hugs some memory or some illusion.

Joseph Conrad

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Hello there! So hereby I am welcoming you to follow me through my journey. Actually, I am in need of some decent company. Until this very moment I was just a simple and ordinary girl living my life with my family in Sweden. My name is Sana and I am 20 years old. I live in Stockholm, the beautiful historical capital of Sweden. I study pharmacy in another cozy and green city which is an hour away. I have a loving family consisting of my parents and my two younger siblings.

I forgot to tell you, I am a Muslim. The mere fact of me being a Muslim has never been so important until this very crucial moment. Yes, I belong to the beautiful religion Islam and have never felt the need to enlighten anyone about it. Why should I? That's between me and my lord.

Allhamdullillah, meaning all praise and thanks to God, I was born and have been raised as a Muslim. That has been my privilege. Unfortunately, I am far away from the good Muslim that I can be. Why am I even chattering about this? You will understand soon. You're thinking that I have lost it right? Well, maybe I have.

I have never thought or dreamt of the fact that a terrorist attack may occur in a peaceful and tolerant country like Sweden. The vision hasn't even visited my nightmares. What I am facing right now is not describable but I will give it a try.

The thing is how do you hold it together or behave when you are face to face with a terrorist? What do you feel or how do you react when you are being held at gunpoint?

Well, right now I am staring into a pair of cold dark blue eyes mere two meters away from me. The gun in his hands is pointed towards my, I guess heart? I have no idea who the person is beneath the mask. I have no idea if I will make it or not. I only know that I am not scared. Instead of being consumed by fear I stand there numb. I am beyond disappointed with myself and my choices in life. I could have been and done so much better. It is really true, when standing inches away from death your whole life flashes by in front of your eyes.

Allhamdullillah for the life I was blessed, but unfortunately I wish I had lived more and stressed less. Unnecessary education consumed more of my life than it should have. Silly me, that doesn't even matter right now. What matters is, am I ready to face my Lord? I don't think so.

With my appearance you would never guess that I am a Muslim. I am more the girl that prays secretively. I feel awkward showing people that I am religious. I am just an ordinary girl who can distinguish between right and wrong. My parents have showered me with good values and I try to be a good human. Unfortunately, the man standing in front of me is in my opinion not even trying to be a decent human. It is hard not to judge him when he is pointing a gun at me.

We are right now standing in Sergel Square, it is right beside the subway and train station. We are standing on the sunken pedestrian plaza furnished with large black and white triangular pattern, we call it plattan meaning the slab. People are running over to the wide flight of stairs leading up to the pedestrian street Drottninggatan, translated the Queen Steet.

Screams and cries for help doesn't reach me as I am zoned out. I am staring at the cold dark eyes but my mind is somewhere else. My head snaps to my right as a ear piercing gunshot breaks me from my trance. I look with wide eyes at the wounded man on the ground pleading for his life. The man who shot him now runs to him and shoots him again. "No!" I gasp and hear myself scream but I can't move. A tear escapes from the corner of my right eye.