I Am Mustafin

hur

reathe in sharply as my eyes flicker open. The bright light th

it

se in the next, my vision clears and I feel the intense ache shooting through my body. However, it is not the ache of the br

n my back and muscles, the cracking of my joints meeting my ears as I bow my head. Dry blood, blisters, and th

sn't r

edge of my wound, a searing sting shoots to its roots and I wail out in pain. My voice quavers,

obb

ow so much as the strap of my bra to touch my chest. My stomach turns, a sickening

sides, seeing my reflection on the mirrored walls beside me. Beneath me, I sit on the hard white tiles,

s when I catch sight of a man dressed in black attire standing on the other side of th

zoo. From the blond hair on his head to the combat boots concealing his feet, I c

y didn't shoot me on the spot, they'

. His arrogance radiates off of him like the heat from the sun on a summer afternoon. With his hands

at me with hooded eyes and stoic features. Unlike myself, he doesn't seem fazed in the slightest and

e says as he reaches his

o much as laying a finger on me. My eyebrows furrow at him, my ey

ot everyday that we come ac

ike mysel

e adds. "It's qu

ly before he says, "You almost have the features of a Diallo, your skin almost matches the sha

f my hair in his hand. "And finally," he holds one of my curls between his thumb, index and middle finger

he tells me, "I've never seen anything like you.

mo

s lips, spitting unde

e?" I seethe through my

only when I ask you a question, an

w I'm not

zed that he was with you and more than likely like you, he di

fraid of what he will do to me-what's the worst? Death? I am prepared for

jumped head firs

t know,

, my head effortlessly whips to the side. A yelp escapes my mouth, the palms

p, shifting my weight to one hand, the

y, and as I turn my head to him, my eyes snapping to meet his dark

ng to happen by the mere shift of his demeanor: he wi

g anything to lose is tha

him, "I wasn't with him when he got away

of amusement in his eyes–not the good kind

is fist and pulls me up to my feet. I hiss through my te

ll behind me and presses the side of my face harshly against it. There is a clipboard in h

Report'. A row of questions fill the page, and at t

etail, Mr. Asshole pulling my hair even ha

answering-that is until he brings the edge of

was

f my throat, tears well my eyes

his hold. I reach for his hands, gripping the back of his as I di

he finally draws the clipboard away from me. It stings and I ca

u come from?"

and suddenly stop is wishful thinking, and the pain in

ing the lives of every innocent man, woman, and child living i

l be executed

ams fill the air, but they'

He says. "That is

e ripped from me when I was branded a

ecorde

and I thrash back against his

teeth as he tightens his hold and pull

alize it until he hisses and threatens, "Those fin

Say.

will is no match for it as I subc

," he chuc

o regard for me, I'm disgusted when I feel the

ispers in my ear as he brings

't resist, breat

ki,

the first question that has been answered 'yes': Was X subject off

er," I mutter t

on, shaking his head a

throat as he digs the edge of the clipboard into my wound onc

ss for words

a..." I stutte

what?" He

lle

a

mb, pulsating ever-so-slightly as he slowly draws the clipboard away from me. Blood soaks t

my chest, "this here serves a purpose

at

n't know if he's being sarcastic or not, but I finally understand

ur name?" h

what

..

" he nud

es my d

m what he wants to

h as he disgustingly praises me with a satisfacti

onto my hair tighter before harshly thrashing me onto the tile floor. The s

onchalantly states. "Around here, you listen the first t

own the side of my face, mixing with my blood. He draws a pen from his pocket and jots

as if he can't see the obvious question that follows bef

ike my own, weak as I re

so hard, was

rs his throat and sets his hands behind his bac

be back and you will be taken to court where you w

th me. The loathe that I feel toward this man c

to die,

y walks toward the glass door and it opens. He takes a step forward, and m

e room and says, "If you get thirsty, the toilet is right th

softly, allowing myself to sink into the hopeless spiral, knowing that if he, w

nd his inborn privileges have made him the monster