Robbed

As I stood in the open yard, speaking with the man about building his future, Bones backed out of the mudhut, coughing and covering his mouth. Coughing then turned to vomiting.
“Jesus Christ!”
“Bones, what’s wrong?”
As he recovered, anger overtook his body. He looked over to the group of men and asked, “Who’s running this house?”
“Bones, what’s wrong?!” I said.
“Who’s running this fucking house?!”
“Bones!”

I walked over to him, watching his eyes dismember the men before him. “What’s wrong, man?”

Between his heavy breaths, he turned to me and said, “Look in there.”

A savage stench of feces, vomit, and rage flowed from the dark room as I approached. With one foot in, I peered around the corner. Waves of heat radiated out of the darkness, etching the smell into my nostrils. My throat tingled and my lungs ached as I watched a beam of sunlight over my shoulder cut the black heat, giving enough light to show three sets of lost eyes fixed upon me. I stepped in, fueling a fire of waste down to my diaphragm. I pulled my sweaty shemagh over my mouth, only a slight relief. As I inhaled the scum of this planet, my eyes adjusted to the dark. I watched one pair of eyes connect to a head, soiled with dirt and hair that had probably never been groomed. The face was no older than thirteen, and that of a female. The body – half naked - lay on a floor of concrete and feces. No traces of food anywhere.

The other eyes were no different.

A single grunt came from one of them, mouth hanging open. Their suffering superseded every dimension and every sense. Starved, abused, cut off from a world they will never understand. It was obvious that God hadn’t given them full minds, birthing them into a society that will only reject and deny them. I left the room, and stormed over to the group of men, sitting in silence with their eyes to the ground. They looked up to me, and I pointed back towards the room of shit. Their eyes averted and heads shook. All but one, who turned to fear.

“You.”

I grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him across the dirt like the animal he was. His filthy hands pulled at my arm, his throat pressed between my fingers. He screamed as we entered the room, and I forced him to look upon that which he created. “You see this?! You, need to get them, out of here!”

I hoped that my eyes and my motions would get through to him. I released him, and one by one he picked the girls up and set them outside. After giving the girls water out of our packs, I pushed the man against a wall. Ali stood next to me as I invaded the man’s space, my magazine pouches pressed against his chest. I raised my sunglasses. “We’re going to come back here. And when we do, this is the first stop we’re going to make. And if these girls aren’t cleaned up, fed, and taken care of, I will find you. And it’s going to hurt. Do you understand me?”