Toy Soldier
Khaleel Jooste
Toy Soldier
By Khaleel Jooste
Copyright Khaleel Jooste 2015
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I seek protection from satan the outcast and I begin in the name of
Allah, The Gracious, The Merciful.
Ayat Al-Kursi
Allah - there is no deity except Him, the Ever-Living, the Sustainer of [all] existence. Neither drowsiness overtakes Him nor sleep. To Him belongs whatever is in the heavens and whatever is on the earth. Who is it that can intercede with Him except by His permission? He knows what is [presently] before them and what will be after them, and they encompass not a thing of His knowledge except for what He wills. His Kursi extends over the heavens and the earth, and their preservation tires Him not. And He is the Most High, the Most Great. (Surah Al- Baqarah 2:255)
As Allah wills
#Survival
Beautiful
Toy Soldier
1977
Trees surrounded the building.
Mostly California Chestnut intermingled with Black Oak.
The south wall faced the ocean. The rest were all covered by the trees. It had no windows and most of the roof was flat.
For all intense and purposes, the building seemed to be an abandoned warehouse.
One could even say that once it was used as a mill. Many cut down trees lay along the fence to the north wall. Most of the fence was gone too.
A no entry sign hung loose on a wooden post.
There was only one entrance.
This was covered by densely packed Buckeye. One would never guess that it was there.
Inside, the building looked very different.
Very much like a hospital; white walls and white tiles all along many corridors. A large plasma screen lined almost an entire wall.
He opens the door to one of the rooms.
A small boy sits in the corner. The boy goes immediately rigid as he approaches him and extends his hand to him.
Reluctantly the boy takes it. Gets off the bed and follows the man into the long corridor. Fluorescent lights flicker. It hurts his eyes. His room has no light. He has been sitting in the dark for a while.
Once in the corridor, one can see him clearly. He’s perhaps five or six with long curly blonde hair that falls in his face and over his ears, big blue eyes; freckles here and there.
They walk to the end of the hall past the many rooms. The boy looks to his left as they pass the room where a brunette girl was standing against a wall. She looked scared; tears running down her face. She was perhaps his age.
The man takes him into a room with glass walls. There was nothing but a metal chair right in the centre. The man tells him to sit down. The boy stares at him at first. Eyes scared. He looks past the man to the screen and as if anticipating something terrible if he refuses, he sits down.
Soon as he places his arms on the arm rests, it is locked in place, so too his legs. The man leaves the room and closes the door. The door had no handle on the inside. The lights also go off.
The plasma screen switches on.
The boy tenses up.
He tries to free himself from the chair, though he knows it is in vain.
He starts to scream.
“No, please don’t! Please! No! Please don’t! I’ll do what you want! I’ll do whatever you want! Please! Please!”
He screams more.
“Please, no! I don’t like snakes! Please!
Not the snakes! Please. Stop. Stop!”
“Please stop!”
ه
He opens the door.
The brunette girl runs to the corner of the room and hides beneath the bed. She watches him as he stands and watches her from the door; all she can make out is part of his grey pants and his white shoes.
He leaves the room. She listens. All she hears is the squeaking his shoes make as he walks down the hall. The incessant screaming coming from the room next to hers makes it difficult to hear.
She covers her ears.
Her door opens again. He enters the room. She listens to the splashing of water on the floor.
This has happened before.
As he walks back to the door, she comes from beneath the bed and jumps on top of it, as he is about to place an electric cable onto the wet floor.
She cries more.
He disappears into the hall quick and returns with a bucket and empties its contents in the centre of the room.
She thinks to try and jump off the bed and run to the door, but she decides to stay instead. The memory of the pain she felt last time she attempted that still fresh in her mind and literally the back of her head.
She looks at the electric cord hanging by a hook at the door; the tip only on few inches from the floor. It is connected to the springs on her bed. Should she jump off, it would fall into the water.
She looks at him.
He looks at her with a strange twist to his neck. She can’t make out his face. It seems as though he is wearing a mask; perhaps a respirator.
He turns and leaves.
The door closes hard; the squeaking noises the last she hears as he walks down the hall. Again she covers her ears to drown out the screams.
A few minutes pass and as she expected, the lights in her room go on.
At first she closes her eyes. To adjust to the light, but more to hide from what horror she is sure lies on the room floor.
Not able to hold back any longer, she slowly opens them.
Soon her screams drown out the screams coming from the room next door.
ز
She sings.
“The incy-bincy spider climbed up the water spout… down came the rain and washed the spider out… Out came the sun and dried up all the rain… and… the incy-bincy spider… climbed up the… spout… again.”
Her voice croaky and hoarse.
She puts down the rag doll, walks over to the glass wall and looks at the boy sitting by himself in the corner.
He seems unaware of all the other children around him. His head shakes involuntary. His face is pale with dark circles around his big blue eyes.
She walks over to him and sits on the floor next to him.
She stares at him. He doesn’t acknowledge that she is there. Keeps staring at the floor. His head shakes more.
“My name is Kimberly.” She puts her hand on his.
“Are you the boy in the room next to mine?” She rubs his hand and tries to make eye contact, but the boy keeps looking down. His eyes start to twitch.
Giving up, Kimberly takes her hand from him and gets off the floor.
As she starts to walk away, she hears him speak.
“My… my name… is… Sean.” Kimberly can barely hear him.
He looks up slightly then looks back down.
His head shakes involuntary and his eyes twitch more.
ش
He has been running for two hours straight.
In the distance he sees the flashes. Orange. Three short, one long. To get there meant safety. But how? He couldn’t see a thing. The woods were dark.
He runs.
He slips.
Hits his head hard against a large rock. Blood trickles from the wound. He gets up and wipes the blood away with his shirt. He looks around. More rocks block his path. They were barely visible in the dark, but he could make them out between the trees. He would have to climb over them or go around them.
Towards the water.
He looks for the flashes, they were now fainter. He must have taken the wrong way, or the path has changed. He attempts to climb the rocks, but slips. He tries once more, slips again.
He decides to go towards the water.
It is not far from where he was now. He hears the water running over the rocks to his left.
He listens.
The strange sound coming from his right. Almost like a hum. Monotonous.
He would have to move.
They were close.
He reaches the small cliff and looks down at the dark depths below him. He starts climbing down. Loose rocks make it difficult to move fast. If he slips, he will definitely not survive.
Others have not.
He holds onto some exposed roots and catches his breath. His lungs burning.
He listens.
They were getting closer.
He climbs down further.
Safely down, he walks along the edge of the river bank.
He listens.
They were not going to follow him here.
He looks at the dark waters. Here he was in more danger, but he didn’t have another choice.
He starts to move.
Carefully making his way along the fragile edge. He is more alert as he is about to walk along the narrow path closer to the river; the side of the cliff protrudes over the water. He goes on his knees and starts to crawl.
He listens.
Only the rushing water as he nears the waterfall.
No sign of them.
He crawls further.
Small rocks fall from above. Someone must be up there. He gets up and leans against the side of the cliff. More rocks fall.
Was it them? But how could they have gotten there so quickly? He controls his breathing and tries to listen for the monotonous hum. The rushing water and rocks from above make it difficult to be sure. He closes his eyes and focus.
There was nothing.
It must be something else.
He goes back on his knees and crawls to the edge and looks down.
It went straight down.
The only way was to jump and swim for his life or try to climb along the slippery slope to his right.
He
