excerpt
…their faces undeniably underscoring their psychological state of
mind yet at those moments when despair flooded their minds
and hearts the mere memory of their past days when among their
family members brought about an invincible strength which kept
them strong and alive to endure the unendurable in the hands
of the archons; these memories of sunlit days and games among
their siblings and the devoted protection of their elders under
which they felt unafraid and secure always rekindled in them the
sense of belonging and graced them with the sense of optimism.
Marcus was out there too, with his buddy Lucas when he
noticed his sister Deborah; he walked to her and as they stood
behind the huge wild chestnut tree Marcus undoubtedly noticed
his sister’s face had assumed the color of the cloudy sky. He
touched her hand.
“What is it?” he asked her but the girl didn’t say anything.
“What is it?” her brother asked again.
Deborah raised her eyes and looked at her brother’s eyes
as if wishing that could tell it all, that could be a good enough
answer for him; yet this wasn’t possible and Marcus asked for
the third time the same question. His sister uttered a very soft
whisper,
“The teach.”
“Who?”
She didn’t say anything but she looked at Father Thomas
who was walking next to Sister Naomi, the two responsible to
supervise the children’s recess.
“He hit you? Why?” Marcus asked.
“He didn’t hit me.”
“What he did?” the boy’s voice was heard almost choking
in the sense of what he suspected.
“Last night, he took me from my bed.”
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