Defining a Terrorist #Wattys2016 (Editing)

Chapter 5

Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak; courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen.

Winston Churchill

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This is beyond stupid and horrible. Oh gosh what have I gotten myself into? I am already a hostage and then I invite more trouble upon myself. Great. Just great.

The five men and the almost fifteen children have their eyes on the terrorist while he has his cold blue on mine. I can't even divert my gaze from his intimidate and intense glare while my heart goes wild inside my chest. I am so dead. The irony.

Can't his cold eyes just stop throwing daggers at me? With a frown I shiver at the ice cold glares I receive from him. Finally being able to shake of his glare from my system and diverting my gaze from his I inhale sharply. The surrounding I am in the middle of just hits me.

I am standing in a very elegant all white and glass furnished lounge room, the same room I was with Adam in the morning having a good time. The difference is that there're a dozen children now sitting on the floor and the biggest change is that there're terrifying company of the terrorist, all in the opposite gender. I am the only female in the room, great.

This is just the situation I want to be in, note the sarcasm. Thankfully all eyes in the room is still on the terrorist while I can still feel his piercing gaze prick my skin. Awesome, even the air seem thicker now. With a sigh I slowly let my alarmed gaze travel to meet the terrorist cold one and I actually pull the corner of my blue shirt so it stops sticking to my body.

The stupid man I just shouted at breaks the silence in the room. "I thought you killed her?" He asks at the same time stating and plays manically with his gray beard as the lunatic he is.

Duh, don't he see me fully alive? Moron. I stand there anticipating the terrorist answer.

His dark eyes doesn't for even once leave mine. "Not yet." He says loud enough to break a stone.

His words kick me in the stomach and I flinch. His jaw tightens while my eyes widens in disbelief. My stomach forms hard knots. What? He told me just in the morning that he won't hurt me. Oh wait, right. The clause, if I do as he say. I furrow my eyebrow. I should just have listened and stayed in my room. At the same time, this is all so wrong. I want to stand up against them.

The thing is even though the terrorist is indirectly telling them and me that he will kill me sooner or later, I can't seem to take his words seriously.

Don't get me wrong, he is still beyond intimidating but I have this feeling that if he would have planned to kill me I would have been dead by now. On second thoughts that might just be my survival instinct feeding me with what I want to feel. Oh just shut up mind.

He walks over to me with fierce steps which makes me automatically take a step back in terror. Grabbing my wrist he starts to drag me behind him. I just follow him as a lost puppet. Not having the slightest idea of what I should be doing or how I should be reacting.

"Why?" The man asks now with no emotion in his voice and makes the terrorist halt.

The word echoes. The terrorist doesn't turn around and I just keep my eyes on his tense profile. "She might be useful to us." He says equally emotionless.

Another of the men speaks up behind us. "Shawn, the girl had the audacity to speak against our Imam." He scolds while informing the terrorist.

Wait a second. I can't help but frown a bit. Shawn. Who's Shawn? The terrorist turns around and looks at them all with a small amount surprise evident in his eyes.