Chapter 1 - Taken

They took him in the middle of the night.
Military men. American, the others said.
They arrived suddenly in their vehicles,
and before anyone could react, began knocking down the doors,
and dragging the males out, shouting in their language.
There were a few Afghans amongst them,
the ones who conveyed their orders to the people,
not that much translation was needed when a gun is pointed at you and your family,
and you are violently dragged from the comfort of your bed out of your house.

Protests were met with fists and boots.
And guns of course.
Such brave men beating the children and women.

They lined the males up.
My brother, my friends, some as young as 12.
Didn't seem to matter to them.

With their hands bound,
and hoods over their heads,
they are loaded into a truck and after a few minutes,
they're gone.
As if nothing ever happened.

We have all heard the stories from other villagers.
Sometimes you get a reason. The reasons always change.
Nobody really knows for sure.
There are no trials.

Most of those taken are rarely ever seen again.

The police can't help. Won't help.

It's as if a storm has come and scooped them all up,
and we are supposed to just forget about them and move on.

I will not.
I will find my brother wherever he is. And I will free him.