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Conflict from the Past
Part 1
I have been training my entire life to serve Allah and my religion, but this is the first time I was sent on a mission to kill a man. I do not know what day it is, but I know it’s around June, 2010. I do not have a real name, but I go by the codename of Eagle of Allah. Akeem, my master, had made me his slave since I was ten. I do not remember my life before that, but only the beatings.
My master found an internet user who insulted my prophet. He drew him as a robotic tank, and now he will pay. Thanks to my master’s method of training, I am an expert at surfing the web. Whenever I made a mistake, he would strike my back with a baseball bat. I could never make a single mistake.
Sometimes, he would whip me with a whip that had thorns, or slice my back with a sword. I have found the user, and analyzed his physical features. He goes by the name of Timothy J. Schichtel II.
Once I found his address, I snuck into his backyard undetected. My stealth was indescribably; however, I had to smear myself with the dung of his dogs to fool their sense of smell. I sat in the oak tree in his backyard, and saw him through the window of his bedroom. “How strange,” I said, “his skin color is very similar to mine.” Even before I saw him, I noticed the similarities between me and most of the Americans. I squeezed the trigger of my sniper rifle; I was ready to strike. That American swine’s life was in my hands, but I kept thinking about how we’re similar. “Could it be,” I asked, “that I’m actually an American?” I was about to end this infidel’s life, but I was hesitating to kill who could be a fellow American. The thought made me nervous. I was close to ending his life, but I spared him. I did not let him live because I thought it was wrong, but only because my curiosity of who I am and where I came from grew.
Part 2
I was in the woods near Panorama Dr. in Palm Coast, Florida to think about my lost past. I sat on a tree stump in the woods thinking about who I really was. I closed my eyes, and took myself back to when I was ten. I saw a boy with blonde hair being brutally injured by a wooden rod. He was beaten for asking questions like, “why did you kill my parents”, “who are you”, and, “can I go home?”
Somehow, I managed to see my life before that. That same blonde boy was with a man with brown hair, and a woman with blonde hair. They were in a car outside of a police station. They were going to bail out my older brother, who had sprayed graffiti of my holy prophet, but the police weren’t the only ones who wanted him to face justice.
Before they could get out of the car, it was too late. The building had been blown up with my brother in it. Concerned, they got out of the car to investigate. My master shot them both the minute they got out. He opened the door of the car I was in. “If you want to live, then come with me,” he said while pointing a gun at my head. I almost remember my childhood, but I still need to learn more about my past life and culture.
Part 3
I have made it back to my master’s secret hideout, which was hidden in an abandoned forest in Washington D.C. I was hiding in the closet of my master’s bedroom, which was in an abandoned cabin of an old camp sight. I was waiting for him to enter his room so I could bring him to his doo. If I am to fin out more about my past, I need to free myself from my master for good.
It’s shower time. He enters his bedroom to get a towel. It was no or never.
He opened the door. Immediately, I pointed the gun to his head just like he did to me. “I no longer serve you.” I pulled the trigger, and his body collapsed to the ground.
I left the abandoned forest, and went on a mission of my own. I am going to find out who my family is. I am an expert at surfing the web, so completing this mission will be easy.
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