Premath

The big fuck up – POW in the Afghan Mountains

This was a Royal fuck up. Almost two days went by and no one came to check on me, but at last, something happened. One of the men removed the jeep and the other took care of the wire mesh and I climbed up with my hands in the handcuffs on my back, which wasn’t easy. They pushed me ahead of them and we walked through the tunnels for at least ten minutes, so we had to be pretty deep into the mountain.

As we came out into the sunlight, I began to see what a dump this place really was.

The smell of dirt, garbage, primitive open toilets, and dead animals was unbelievably unbearable. It’s sticky and once you get it in your nose, your memory of it will cause you to keep on smelling it for the rest of your life.

I noticed a few other cabins, some dead dogs and goats, and also a goat that was still alive. There were a few cars under a white camouflage net, but there didn’t seem to be any kind of even a narrow gravel road or something. This place would be extremely hard to find by anyone. In fact, if it wasn’t for the smell people could walk pretty close by without noticing anything and I probably wouldn’t encounter any tourists in these dead and lonely mountains anyway. There could be hundreds of miles to the nearest village…

They pushed me into a small cabin, threw me on a table and began to rip off my clothes while I was still cuffed.

I distanced myself from the situation while those stinking reptiles forcefully raped me. Thrusting over and over again on top of me. The pain was endless, and I sank deep down into an abyss of stone-cold darkness. I think I was out for some time. Going back there is a point in time prior to which I can’t remember.

So, I have no idea how long it lasted. Felt like an eternity in hell, but I guess it took them some hours to complete this primal hunt for abusive satisfaction…

And then they threw me back into the hole.

I cried.

A lot.

I was broken.

I usually don’t have AHA experiences. I have FFS experiences.

For Fuck’s sake…

This was one of them.

But when I realized I cried from self-pity I stopped. And instead, I started hating myself for letting this happen. I was angry! I didn’t sleep that night. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt it all coming back. Like the raping never stopped. I still felt them on top of me all the time. Inside me. Repulsive, stinking rapists. I was choking and in panic. Couldn’t breathe.

Interrogation

Two or three days went by before they brought me back up in the shed. I feared it would start all over.

They forced me to sit down in a wooden chair and they cuffed me to it.
The dumbass chief from the rape party who wouldn’t pass an English grammar test anytime soon came in through the door in his tattered uniform. I wasn’t scared of him. I felt my energy return in firm determination that I, at some point within a very limited number of days would separate him from his dirty dick and watch him bleed out on his way to hell!

– My name is Lev, he said with a very distinct Russian accent.

– I am in charge here, and you are American spy!

– Is this party colour coordinated? I asked. We were all wearing khaki military uniforms.

He looked confused for a split second but tried to look like he was in control.

At that point, I knew I had him! My mind was a lot stronger than his despite what he and his primitive tribe did to me. Sarcasm is my strongest weapon, and it was the way to command respect.
– And where’s the beer and the music?
– No beer. No music! I’m Lev and I’m in charge here! He stepped closer. So close I could smell his last shower three months away.
– You just repeated yourself. Is it Alzheimer’s? Anyway, I don’t fucking care what your name is, I replied, while I turned my head away in disgust to escape the stench. You are dead by dawn anyway. Either the smell kills us both or I simply kill you when I get bored with you!
– HA HA HA!!.

He laughed so hard that if there in fact was a village within a hundred miles, they would easily have heard him. I wasn’t quite able to see the fun in the situation so I kept my poker face like a stiff in rigor mortis.

– You are a funny little lady, but I happen to know that you are a spy sent by the KGB to kill me.

– I don’t need KGB to order me to kill you. I will do that all by myself!

– Gladly! I added.

The laughing part was over. This time he hit me with his rifle instead. Right in my face. That hurt like hell. I think I was out for a sec or two and when I ‘came back’ I could feel warm blood running down my cheek.

And to add insult to injury he began spitting at me. But I kept up my bad attitude.

– That’s a horrible way to propose to a lady. I will never marry you. I can’t stand powerless men who can’t even hit a lady properly.

– We are not getting married bitch, but I will fuck you with pleasure anyway! And he punched me again, this time with his left fist in my stomach. The chair fell over and me with it and he began kicking me while I was lying in the chair on the wooden floor.

– I am going to sell you back to the United Fucking States for a million dollars, he shouted while kicking me.

So that was the reason I was still alive!

– If you think the US will pay a million dollars for a British soldier you belong to the kind of institutions where people are dressed in straitjackets!

He looked completely baffled for a sec. and after regaining his composure he tried to play cool.

– You thiiiink you are tough huh…?

He didn’t wait for an answer. He just kept on kicking and spitting.

I don’t think it lasted that long. Maybe two or three minutes.

He pulled me up. He was pretty strong. But I had no intentions of bending over to this ruthless warlord, so I looked him right in his eyes while I almost whispered in a condescending and superior tone:

– You don’t get laid very often, do you Mr Krankenstein?

He just pushed me violently back and I fell to the floor again. Still chained to the chair.

– I’m bored with you! You are all talk and no show! I told him and rolled my eyes so hard I checked my own ass.

He looked like he would explode in anger, but he managed to control himself.

He was out of ammo! My mind truly was stronger than his. He was mentally impotent. I WON this round! But this was only the psychological part of our battle.