A horror story with a "happy" ending from Iraq.

From an Iraqi blogger. It's somewhat long so I'm just posting a few excerpts.

http://ejectiraqikkk.blogspot.com/

In the past, I didn't want to leave Iraq - earlier to February 2006, life was difficult, but in a way, Iraqis got used to it, after my friends were killed, it took on a whole new meaning, and two days after the last friend passed to the world beyond, I heard this story, it was all I needed to know that there is no life for me here anymore.

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One day, Omar's mother, his sisters, and two younger brothers (one born 1987, the other 1990) were all taking a taxicab from now-infamous Adhamiya, unfortunately, the taxi dude turned out to be a chewer, (i.e. a person who's connected to a criminal organization one way or the other, the traditional menaing of chewer indicates the middle man between regular people eligible for kidnap and murder, and the interested gangs) The Chewer delivered them to their Grandfather's house safe, but, perhaps on knowing that they are Sunni in someway, or perhaps of something they might have said, the guy returned with 3 pick-up trucks, broke the door and took the two boys away.

Upon reaching the presidential area, Omar lost his grip and his friend Salim took over driving, the area was barren and empty, like all of Baghdad, after roaming around for a few blocks lost they found a drunk guy, who answered in a drunk, overconfident "Hell, yeah! Sure I know where the office is!!!" They picked him up, and despite his drunk incongruence, he sure knew where the office is. However, The office was just as desolate and unhospitable as everything else is.
At this particular moment, Omar's frustration bubbled to the surface, and he let loose in massive frantic that cursed all the Shiites on the face of the earth, he kept on screaming, yelling and shouting until the glorious pick-up trucks came back to the office, and beat them inside it. Omar and Salim took a few cables, but the militiamen beat the shit out of the drunk guy, while on duty, in sync with the religious ideology of the Mahdi's army - they assume a very hostile tone to alcohol. That done, Omar and Salim were separated for questioning.

-What's your name?
-Omar. he gave that up, cuz they already looked in his ID
-You Sunni or Shiite?
-Shiite (cable slashes across his body)
-Don't talk shit to me now.
-Sunni....Sunni....
-What brought you here?

Meanwhile

Man: What is your name?
Omar's youngest bro: Mazin
Man: Are you a Salafi (Wahhabi)?
Mazin : No.
Man: Do you love Ali?
Mazin: Yes.
Man: Curse Omar.
Mazin: (curses Omar)
Man: Tell me what you know about the 'brave resistance'?
Mazin: I don't know anything....
(Man falls with a sledgehammer deep on Mazin's fingernails....a horrible shriek comes from Mazin, as broken nails are driven deep inside his own flesh in a mess of blood.)
Man (laughing): Good. The Mujahideen has taught you not to speak.

SADDA
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The executioner took the two unfortunate men and hurled them inside Omar's own minivan (Kia), they were blindfolded, he switched the ignition, and the car was filled with Hussam al-Russam's Iraqi party music, he quickly turned it off and murmuered in anger, and the car now headed to Sadda. Sadda is an area in Sadr City that serves as the execution ground for the Mahdi's army, Omar has now gone from crumbling despair through unflinching anger into silent oblivion. But his friend Salim kept talking to the man every now and then.

-Sir, where are we going.
-Sadda.
-How long yet?
-Soon. ...
-Sir, are you going to kill us?
- ....

The sir didn't answer, and his silence soon grew until it horribly engulfed the whole car, Omar became certain of his destiny at that moment, and he began reciting the Shahadas (couplets recited by Muslims upon death) as quickly and repeatedly as possible, he said that all he was thinking about at that particulalr moment of time was how his mother has wound up with losing all her sons together, he just wanted to have once last chance to see her and tell her goodbye.
The car reached the Saddah, the man descended and took the two silent boys to the ground, he took his gun out, reloaded....and then his mobile rang out. The caller ordered the man to stop the execution but continue routine investigation.
As I told Omar, and as Iraqis normally would say, Omar has "the luck of bitches."

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OUTSIDE


Omar arrived in his house in Adhamiya the next day, to find that 2 brothers have already arrived before him, the older one wasn't tortured much, they only used his face as an ashtray, putting them out on his mouth, cheeks, nose and eyelids....but the youngest.....

the youngest was another story, a horror story, Abu Der'a's sledgehammer has made good memories out of his fingernails, and had transformed his knee-joints "Soaps, in Arabic" into actual soaps. His back was filled with light drill marks here and there....and whatever was left of him was filled with all sorts of mischief. He was immediately transported to Adhamiya's major hospital, al-Numan.

By noon, Omar's modest household was filled with all sorts of people - family relatives, friends and other people....soon, a group of men who Omar described as "al-Mujahideen" came smiling and tender, Omar's voice beamed with pride as he talked of the way one of them, upon wrapping up their diplomatic mission, swore to Omar that they'd make them pay back by 'hijacking a bus of Shiites.'

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"But, but, is that right?" I said to Omar in a low voice that came from the depths of some unrealistic pool that felt like an obligation, a laughable imitation of the corny, fake stuff they put on television.

"You're right, sure sure...I even told them so..." Omar's voice was just as dead.