Sometimes we don't value small things so much, and we don't even remember how

important they are to us. That particular day, everything looked wonderful, when I left

“the cave” and went for some fresh air. It wasn't like it was a few days ago that

I walked out the door of the CIA and just sat on the concrete bench in front of the

square, and watched the beautiful fountain, which was not only a wonder to the eyes,

but also refreshing the day even more. And my mind. But no, it wasn't! It was just air,

coming in dry, but still far more comforting than smelling the rotting stool and piss that

permeated the place. And I had scattered rotten, carrion-scented food, from my blood

spilled on the floor. And it still smelled like my own weeks without bathing.

My nostrils were constantly closed by the drying blood after a beating and sometimes

it was difficult to breathe. On the one hand, it wasn't so bad, at least it spared me all that rot.

In addition to relieving the odors, the draft caused me violent and lasting tremors,
since I did not eat for days, and my clothes were always damp or wet. I didn't even
try to walk, afraid of the reaction of those watching me. He didn't even blink, waiting
for my misstep. I just sat slowly on an old bench that was there, and hugged my lean,
almost naked, and extremely weakened body. I tried to ignore my appearance, and tried
to control myself. Minutes ago, in the cave, I was being beaten, and one man raped me
with his hand while three watched. They shouted encouraging that violence, and even
cursed me. But who were they? They didn't even know me. The punches against my face,
against my abdomen wouldn't stop, hit my arms, my ribs, and didn't even give me
time to breathe. When they stopped a little, I wouldn't listen to them anymore.
There, lying on the floor, I tried to concentrate so as not to faint, as my eyes

darkened all the time.

I prayed every minute that it wasn't the last. I wanted to spend as much time as

possible outside that shed of horrors that for more than 10 days but nothing

happened to me but all kinds of abuse. I have never been in favor of torture,

but everyone in C.I.A is aware that it exists, because we are “obliged” if we want to

have results with terrorists, for example, using such methods.

There have been times when I have had to watch extremely violent videos,

but we are usually spared the worst parts. I remember once being affected by

the appearance and physical condition of a female prisoner who must have suffered

much torture, but after arguing with some colleagues, I decided that it was best to forget.

Now in her place, I didn't want anyone to think that forgetting was best.

But I already know the law in the US. We "terrorists" have no rights, so I can safely see

that I'm fucked! It's been ten days, and so far I couldn't convince them that I have no

involvement with anything. But I am also sure that I would not believe myself.

Actually, I'm not sure what I'm being accused of, they don't give me any details,

just keep repeating all the time that it's no use me lying. Looks like there's evidence

that I spoke to some terrorist and didn't inform C.I.A about it. Sorry if I laugh a little,

but it is because it is ironic that something so simple can end my life.

I was asked for an alibi for three different days. Three days! From a random date

I have no idea what I was doing back then. Fuck! Accuse me of being a bad agent,

of having a fucking memory.But terrorist? So, the truth is, I couldn't report any alibi.

But as I said, sometimes it's hard to remember what I did the day before.

I might laugh now too, but I won't. The bastard sitting in front of me hurts me the most,

and seems to enjoy doing it. But what to expect from someone who has the

courage to torture another human being in this way? It could only be such a sick mind,

and believe me. Inside this room I met many. He approached me and extended his hand.

This psychological game of "good" always pisses me off. I stare at him;

He wants me to take his hand, and go back to that sticky hell, to be raped and beaten.

It's an invitation! Definitely an invitation! I note with sadness. And it's a polite invitation.

The hand extended courteously, as if inviting a waltz to dance.

Although I think for a moment, I have no choice. I give him a hand and he goes on taking

me inside. I'm going into that place. In my throat is a scraped scream.

One I've given several times, but I choked him, because it didn't help me.

A scream that I now silence, because I was often silent, and with extreme violence.

People watch these horror movies where a psychopath locks his victim in a barn,

in a basement, holds her in a chair, and knocks, knocks, subject to the unfortunate

to terrible things. This is torture. This is American torture.

And honestly I could condemn that kind of thing, but I can't find any arguments.

It's just me, another victim of the system. But I know how much bombs the

US has prevented from exploding. How many lives were spared!

Children have been saved! Women, men, fathers and mothers and children! Families!

But here I am again, inside this room. And I'm filthy.

The physical filth and the filth of what they do to me. They watch me with hate.

First day at the FBI

Irem is dressed socially, walks in a hurry, but soon stops and watches the large building

in front of her. Must be over 30 floors. Her eyes reach the sky, and then she closes her

eyes trying to stay calm. He thought he had already overcome all the prejudices and

abuses he had suffered in Quantico. She was persecuted by all because she was Arab,

and her teachers gave her harsh punishments when she spoke her language or fought,

demanding her rights. Now he was going to meet Director Tom, he was the one who gave

her the most support. And he'd recruited her for the FBI, but it was only now that the

challenges were even bigger. Taking a deep breath he took courage, and climbed the stairs.

Arriving at the door, a guard stopped her: 

__ Good afternoon! Where do you want to go?

__ I'm going to the Criminal Profiles Department on the 21st floor.

I have a meeting with Principal Tom.

__ Yes, one moment I will confirm. - The guard was watching her very closely.

It seemed he was trying to define his expressions. He hung up the phone and

spoke again to Irem.

__ Nobody answered. Wait a little, please.

__ Tes. -  Irem walked away, letting the people pass, everyone was looking

at her as if she had already been barred by suspicion. Some watched too much,

and it bothered her too much. Irem asked again: 

_ Hi. Ah. Can you ... Can you try talking to him again, please? - she said, her voice low

and very polite.

- Yes, give me a moment, please. But move away, please. -  The guard spoke authoritatively,

for Irem stepped in front of some people who wanted to pass.

__Yes sorry. - Spoke away again, gave a half smile, a little embarrassed. But the man in

front of her didn't return his smile.

__ Some problem? - A man who was coming in asked, but as I fear that Irem is

causing problems. The guard looked at Irem and spoke softly to the Agent.

__ No, just …- they walked away, but not enough, because she could still hear them.

__ You know that we have greater caution with the top floors, because of the secrecy

we have there. And ... all care is little. She said that have a meeting with Principal Tom,

and I need to be able to talk there, and I still can't.

_ So, Let me handle this situation then.-  The guard who was subordinate to

him walked away and nodded his head. Agent Mike approached Irem, who looked

away smiling at him, he also returned the smile. Irem held out his hand in greeting.

He greeted her and identified himself:

_ I'm Ag. Mike Donovan, are you ...?"

__ I'm agent Irem Khoury. - She keep smiled at him, who returned the smile strangely.

__ Do you want to talk to Principal Tom?"

_ Yes, I have a meeting with …-  She stopped noticing the exchange of glances

between the guard and Ag. Mike: _ Is there any problem, Agents? -  she asked, extremely

polite but worried.

_ No...I think not... but here we are very strict about giving permission to the top floors.

They are extremely confidential, because we deal with terrorism, with profiles of very

dangerous criminals. Can you tell me what you want with Principal Tom?

_ I … -  She stared everywhere not knowing how to act. If she should say something.

She was already noticing that she  was suffering prejudice, but she didn't want to get in trouble. __ I'm going to have a meeting with him, I'm a recent graduate, and he asked me to come, to talk. But I already told him that… - She pointed the guard and stopped now even more nervously._ … Twice. - she Completed the phrase, looking at the agent who had the phone in his ear, trying to talk to the 21andar. .

__ Yes, but do you mind if I... before you go there, I inspect you?  - He was sympathetic, but

Irem already knew he was already in the sights of security because he was Arab.

__ But here…? - She was super embarrassed: ___... in front of everyone?

__ Yes, before you come in, please.-  The Agent was serious now. All his sympathy is gone.

Irem felt very humiliated. Another agent approached to try to understand what was happening.

Irem began to get even more nervous.

__ What's going on, Mike? -  They greeted each other, but Mike couldn't take his eyes off

Irem now.

_ Just for safety, I want to inspect this girl. It's her first time at the FBI, and she's wanting

access to 21. I'm just being careful. 

_ Yes, of course. __ The Agent held his hando to Irem, introducing himself__ Agent Collins.

Its everything right? - Irem greeted him with her hands.

__ More or less, I can't understand what all this is? - she was starting to get extremely nervous.

__ Don't worry, it's just a precaution. If you collaborate, we will have no problem.

We have a deal?

Now she swallowed hard trying to understand why they acted that way with her.

He answered after licking his lips in a nervous tic:

__ Yes, but can you try to talk to Principal Tom again, please? - She’s trying to scape from

the inspect. 

_ Yes, but first put your hands on the wall, please. Let's just go over it. And we'll call

Director Tom soon. What do you think? - Ag. Collins say it in a calm voice.

_ Why do you have to inspect me ?! -  she asked nervously now. She was trying to

control herself. _ Please, try to talk to him again, he will confirm. He ask me to come. 

__ I'm trying! - the agent who approached her first spoke impatiently.

__ Do not be nervous! Why are you so nervous !? - Agent Collins asked with a broad smile,

feigning sympathy.

__ I'm not nervous! Just trying to figure it out, because… - She was cut short by Ag. Collins.

_ Can I count on your cooperation, Agent? Just do what I'm asking and it will be over soon.

Forgot we had a deal? Why don’t you want to cooperate? 

Irem looked at the people who now stared at her in fear.

__ I can present my identity. I'm a recent graduate of... and…

_ Please, before we continue this conversation, lean against the wall, reach out, please.

I'm losing a little patience here! Do you have cause problems, Irem? -

He started getting nervous too, and asked worried ..

_ No! - she answered with fear. There were tears in her eyes now. 

__It's all right. But I want to be inspect by a woman.

__ Don't make a case, Irem, please! how many time I have to ask you.

Do what I’m telling you!  And soon we'll call director Tom and it will be all sorted out. - Irem now

wept for the humiliation that passed.

_ I'd rather it was a female agente, please.-  Agent Collins turned Irem on the wall brutally

and he began to inspect her by running his hands over her body, keeping her very

uncomfortable.

__ Spread your legs, please. Irem spread her legs, and he touched her again, causing

extreme discomfort. He searched her trunk again, touching her arms, belly, and so on.

It was over, and the other agent had inspect her purse and coat. Irem could not contain

the cry now. He returned the belongings to her, who did not face people.

__ Now come to us. - The two surrounded her like a criminal, and were taking her into the FBI.

Irem was taken into a room and waited for someone to appear. She got restless.

And an agent appeared at the door, and said,

__ We can confirm with Director Tom, an agent will accompany you. You are free to go. - 

Irem breathed a sigh of relief and followed with an agent.

Write and Created by Aline Pottier

LEIA MAIS…

I I carried the pain of 6 years of despair and suffering. I can't understand until today why

I survived all this. I also can't understand why I wanted to live after all this, and how can

I live with those memories? I write trying, trying to understand.

II I didn't know anything there. I tried to run away more than 4 times in the early days.

I made some mistakes trying to escape. Unfortunately one of them went to call the military

police. The second was to go to the civil police. But I didn't know anything about there.

But the third time, I already knew I couldn't trust the police. So I didn't look for them.

I walked down the street aimlessly, behind trusted faces trying to get one information:

"Where was the bus station?" Some would not give me the information.

TThat city is so putrid, that people there realize that you are in trouble and walk away,

because they don't want to have problems either. But a few who gave me the information

about where the bus station was, said, "Stay right there," as if it were just around the corner,

and it wasn't! Others said, "You have to get a cab."

But I had no money, just my clothes. These people didn't want to give me information,

much less money for a ticket, a taxi. So I walked, extremely tired, emotionally drained,

and ended up being seen by one of them. One of these disgusting cops.

He was dressed in normal clothes, I couldn't see he was a cop.

And he took me back to that house. Peter arrived a few minutes later.

I will spare you this time from the details of the beating I took.

But I know that I had difficulty breathing through my nose, and in my mouth because

the blood dried inside, because I was thrown on the floor for 3 days without help.

So I didn't want to run away for a while, my recovery was very slow.

I had no physical condition to escape.

After almost 1 month without trying to escape, living that my miserable life of filth,

malaise, hunger, deprivation of my dignity. But I could only think one thing: “run away”.

I had time to think. This time I decided that I had to ask someone for help,

I wanted to borrow a phone, or that person would point me to a place where I could get help.

The first reliable people to appear were two smiling girls. They looked at me.

I was thin, pale, with marks on my face, hugging my body, dying of cold and hunger.

I don’t need to say, they died pitying of me and then let me use the phone.

They looked like tourists, but in a few minutes I realized not, as they began to be afraid

of the questions I was asking them and asked me for the phone again and when

I returned the phone, they walked away, almost running.

They were also part of the scheme: “Don't get involved!” I approached a man on the street,

probably not 50 yet, distracted, but I stopped him. He also looked me up and down.

I knew I was in a deplorable state and so it scared people.

I started talking and explained some things that had happened to me this time and asked

for help. He ripped, sending me back home and staying with my husband.

I approached a few other people who had a very similar reaction,

when I said that Pedro was a policeman, they got scared, and walked away.

People there know that the police are the “boss” of the city, so if they brood over your face,

their life in that city is over. To tell the truth your life is really over.

At that time I still didn't know why they were doing this and I didn't understand that

I couldn't count on anyone there to help me. So I insisted on addressing a few more people.

And I found out I had a women's shelter. I went to the shelter and asked for help.

An hour later, there was a police car at the door.

They shouted for the door to be opened, and promptly one of the women opened it.

Anyone would think: “What shelter is this that opens the door to the attackers?”

I thought that way. But it's because my attacker was a policeman, and

so for me there’s no help. “they threw me at the wolves” without thinking twice.

One of the cops grabbed me by the hair by force, and dragged me out of the place.

The girls cried in fright. Me too. This cop who dragged me was extremely tall and liked to

hit defenseless people. He kicked my body, no matter where it hit. It hurt me a lot.

He threw me into the car anyway, and got into the car, threatening the girls at the

shelter, who consented to agree that they would do nothing to help me.

The car stopped at Pedro's police station, and they took me off by putting handcuffs

on my wrist, I couldn't quite understand what I had done to be handcuffed,

but I felt safe that I was even being taken to the police station. My mistake!

They handed me to Peter's hand who smiled. We entered a room, I shut up and he said:

__ So, Deputy Felipe, my wife, does not stop disobeying me, humiliating me

in front of all of you, I will keep you 4 days stuck here and give her the punishment

she deserves. Felipe smiled, that was how he liked his cops to act.

__ I did nothing ... they have beaten me … - I try to say, but Felipe scream at me.

__ Shut up! - He hit hard on the table raging. __ You shut up! -  He pointed a finger at me

menacingly! "You stay where your husband says!" “You do what your husband says!” -

Everyone got excited agreeing.- "Are we understood, girl?" - 

Gabi said nothing, but now she was afraid, and tears began to trickle down her cheeks.

Delegate Felipe stepped forward, grabbed Gabi by the chin and shouted with hatred:

__ "I didn't hear you answer me!" - He was looking at her with hatred.

Everyone approved by making a certain commotion, the delegate's reaction.

__ When I ask you a question you answer !! - Spoke swinging, hurting her face,

because now also tightened more tightly.

__ Yes, I'll do. I will do what he wants. - Gabi said taking the hand of Felipe trying

to relieve some pain in the chin. He let go of her face and walked away.

__ "Take this woman to one of the cells." Detective Alba puts her on the axes.

Do we have a deal!? - Gabi was very afraid, was no longer at the mercy of a monster,

but several of them. One of them grabbed her arm tightly and lifted her into a cell.

He threw her in the cell, and Gabi didn't have the strength to stand, and fell to the

ground injured. She stood for a while and crawled crying into the corner of the very small cell.

Pedro arrived a few minutes later and Gabi got up in fear, did not even wait for him to

open the cell with the key, and began to speak nervously:

__ Pedro, I'll do what you want ... this time I will ... .- cried softly. __ So I know I made a

mistake, but I will not ... believe me ... I will obey you in everything ... you can do everything ...

I will not fight anymore .... Pedro, believe me, please. - He kept talking, and Pedro just

opened the cell, saying nothing, stood in front of her as if he were a psychopath, and

let her keep talking: __ I'll make the food you want …- Gabi now gestured crying stronger,

and more wildly. __ I'm going to have sex with you anytime you want, I'll tidy up the whole

house …-  Gabi was getting more and more nervous. Pedro approached her, who was

startled, he held her face with both hands, and began to caress her face with his fingers:

_ Are you going, my love? - He was looking at her with a smile on his face.

Gabi shuddered, but answered now without crying so much, because the fear was too

great, and was already paralyzed:

__ I will. Believe me.

__ I believe my love. - Pedro smiled with tears in his eyes. __ I believe.

He caressed her face with both hands. He approached her, giving her a hard kiss

on the cheek. Gabi said crying:

__ Pedro, please ... Pedro, please, don't hurt me. - cried.

Pedro then crying, holding Gabi's head tightly, put his head, about 6 times against the wall,

causing bleeding. Gabi fell to the floor in disagreement, and he kicked her in the back,

in the ribs. Gabi didn't react. Peter kicked her with extreme brutality.

Gabi woke up taking the kicks, and slipped under the corner bunk bed in the cell.

Peter easily, because of his strength, pulled her from under the bed, and began

punching his wife in the face. His punches came so hard that they seemed hammered.

Gabi again lost consciousness. And kept being beaten. She tried to hold his hand,

which caused him more anger:

__ Don't hold my hand! You are disrespect me! Don't hold my hand! -

He kept punching his wife extremely hard in the face. That fell to the floor,

and never came back. A police officer saw Peter beating her this way, and ran for help.

Gabi really had not only lost consciousness now, he was no longer breathing.

The policeman opened the cell, and two more grabbed Pedro away from Gabi.

Officer Rodrigo, started doing heart massage, and mouth-to-mouth breathing on Gabi

and asked to call the ambulance, Gabi had no reaction until the ambulance arrived.

The paramedics saw her lying down on the extremely injured floor, and began to revive

her with relish. Gabi began to breathe ... and Rodrigo was relieved.

He spent about 10 minutes supporting her, and it had not been in vain.

The paramedics just put her on a stretcher and took her by ambulance.

Write and Created by Aline Pottier

LEIA MAIS…