LOST INNOCENCE PART ONE ‘THE ACCUSED’
ONE
Memories of this living nightmare resurfaced; that first day as the cell
door swung closed; the complete helplessness of being locked up.
Left alone for hours, crunched up on the floor, the cell door swung open
and three surly guards with shaved heads appeared. One by one, they
entered stepped over some bodies and came for me.
Sweat rolled from their faded tattoos of skulls and bones as they
picked me up, dragged me outside, held me firm and stripped me. I hadn't
struggled, just stood naked; the fear of being raped froze me.
Bent over by two guards, the third parted my ass-cheeks, reached in
and shoved his latex covered finger up into the middle-of-next-week. I
jerked forward, stifling my screams as I felt one of them squeezing my balls,
hard – it hurt. Supposedly checking for drugs, they’d more likely enjoyed
the sadistic infliction of pain. My pulse hit the roof, my body seized - I
passed out.
TWO
On the golden sands of the south-west coast of Thailand, the blazing sun
beat down on my body. A breath-taking view lay before me of the vast
expanse of the Andaman Sea, and the subtle, salty scent engrossed me. The
still blue waters broken by the sound of the waves lapping against the
rocks carried serenity.
I reached for my crime-thriller when my eyes met those of a struggling
hawker, well covered in cloth and an old, straw hat over a tired, bronzed
face. A sharp pang of sympathy rattled within me and I pointed to some
fruit I didn't want. I dug deep for some change, paid and smiled as she
handed me a stick with a bag of sliced melon dangling from it. She thanked
me, gathered up her wares and strolled off on her way down the beach.
I returned to my book and surfed through the pages when it suddenly
felt hot. Can we turn it down to tropical; I smiled as a bead of sweat rolled
down my nose, stopped and dropped onto a page. I wiped it away,
squinted up at the sun and strained my eyes.
A rank stench in the air roused my attention and scanning the area, I
couldn't tell what it belonged to. My parched throat and dried lips cried out
for water and scrambling in the sand for my bottle, I couldn't find it. I
stretched for my things, everything had vanished – my bag, my book, and
the melon.
I lay back as my head brushed up against a foot. I turned to apologize
and couldn't be more shocked. Many dirty, stinky, bodies, lying crammed
together within so little space.
I covered my ears as a cacophony erupted in a language I didn't know.