It was the reality that I wished was a nightmare

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

It was the reality that I wished was a nightmare

Part 1: At the start of the Iranian election/post-election
Part 2: As the protests continued
Part 3: The unimaginable torture…
Part 4: When things got more violent…
Part 5: June 24th - “The Day of the Axes”
Part 6: Three days of hell

I had filed a complaint against the government at an office that Karroubi had set up, that was supposed to be a safe place, and other people that had been detained and released had done the same thing. I almost didn’t want to do it, but I was convinced that it would be a good idea to do so and others have apparently felt the same way. This was all a big mistake. There was a day where that office was raided by the government, files were confiscated, mostly of people’s name to find out people who have filed those complaints to go over them again. They wanted to silence everyone even more.

It was early morning of September 24th and I was at my house and was trying to fully wake up. Out of nowhere, I heard knocking on the door and was going to answer the door. Before I could do that, security forces just busted down my door and there was about five of them, and they started to trash my place and then started to beat me and arrested me again. They raided my grandmother’s once, and I heard they had been doing this a lot to people. I didn’t think that it was going to happen to me, but then I should have known anything was possible.

I was taken to a place that I believe was the same kind of place at the first place, it looked familiar to me and I had this bad feeling in my stomach that the worst was going to happen. I was beaten by guards there and they just started yelling at me, and they were making threats on my life again. A while after the beatings started for me, they stopped for a while and then I started to be questioned by them and if they didn’t like an answer that I was giving them, it meant that I was hit somewhere on my body, most times on my head or in my face.

I was hung up by my wrists again and the beatings continued. I knew that feeling of electric batons all too much at this point, but it always felt very painful each time. Each time it just got more and more painful. I was still being yelled at and beaten while I was there and was being asked all kinds of questions about everything, they again wanted more names, and to know all this information about people I knew, about protests in the future, my involvement in all of them. I always gave the same answers each time they asked, and it resulted in the beatings getting worse. I don’t think they wanted answers at that point and that the only thing they wanted to do was to inflict a lot of pain.

I was threatened with a “punishment” of around 50 lashes for involvement in past protests and for the previous protests. I was hoping it wasn’t going to happen but it didn’t. When I realized it was going to happen, I didn’t know how to react this time. I have heard of lashings happen and how horrible it is and I didn’t want that to happen. I was chained back up by my wrists again and the lashings started. The guard that was giving the lashes seemed to make sure that all the force that he had to use, it’s what he was using. Each lash hurt worse then the one that was before. It felt like it took forever for it to end. I blacked out at one point because the pain was too much and I could feel blood dripping down my back. I wanted it to be over. I felt like it was going to end, because it seemed like time slowed down while this was happening.

All of the pain that was going through my body at that time was the worst that I had felt in my entire life. It was too unbearable to have to deal with. Once again, I felt like it was going to be it for me. I thought it was going to get worse from there and that I wasn’t going to be released. The only thing I started to hope at that point that if something happened to me that day was that at least wanting to know that my family was going to be okay and that nothing was going to happen just because I was the one that was arrested and they are my family.

Not that long after that was over with, they finally let me out of the chains. I didn’t get any kind of small medical attention to clean up the lashes on my back and clean up the blood or any of the injuries. I was sore that I could barely even stand up at that poin. Once again, I ended up covered in my own blood again. It wasn’t as bad as previous times, but it was just as bad. I felt more weak than I had in a long time. My arms, legs, and body was covered in bruises and my back in cuts, welts and severe bruises from the lashings that I had gotten. I was informed that I was going to be released, but even being released was going to be something that felt like a nightmare.

It was then that a guard had blindfolded me and didn’t say where they were taking me to, they weren’t just going to let me walk out of a building or anything. I thought it was going to be the same thing as the first time. It was different and even worse this time around. They drove for what felt like an hour, and then stopped. I was pushed out of the car that I was in, and was still in the blindfold. I was being yelled at by one of the guards that was there [there was two of them]. They seemed to want to mess with me psychologically for a while and they did just that.

I was pushed to the ground, and was kicked repeatedly. I didn’t know where I was because I still had the blindfold on but I knew that it was in a desert because I could feel that I was in sand once I was pushed and kicked to the ground. I was repeatedly kicked while being yelled at by the guard. It was then, just minutes later that I heard the sound of a gun cock. I was sure that I was going to be shot right there once I heard that sound. My heart only started to race faster as I was waiting for that to happen. Instead, I was still being kicked and threatened that he was going to shoot me right there. When I felt the barrel of the gun touch the back of my head, I just had this horrible feeling overcome and just knew it was going to happen. 5 minutes of this and then it finally stopped.

When it stopped, I hoped it was over and once I heard car doors shut and the car drive off, I knew that it was finally over with. I just waited a while and laid there and waited 10 more minutes to take the blindfold off. I didn’t want to take a chance. I had no idea if it was day or night, but when I took that blindfold off, it was night and it was dark. I was in a desert, wasn’t sure exactly where at in one, or which way was home. I couldn’t see that much but tried to use all the energy that I had to get up and just start walking until I could find something or someone to tell me where I was.

I had to stop walking every couple of moments because of how weak I felt, and my extremely sore back didn’t help make the walk any easier than that. It made things only more difficult. I passed out at least twice during that walk before getting out of the desert and finding out where I was and could make the walk home. It was the longest walk that I had ever taken in my life. I was very weak, extremely sore, could barely even stand up. I couldn’t see straight most of the time and had a hard time figuring out which way to go for that reason. What probably would have been a shorter walk than it would have been, ended up taking me 2 hours to find my way home.

During the whole time, I was told that I was marked by the government. It meant a lot of things, but mostly that I had to leave the country. If I didn’t, then I could face another arrest for any other reason in the future — without any reason. I had been told that if I went to file a complaint against the government or that if I was to testify against the government — that they wouldn’t go after me the next time, but they would go after people in my family and kill that person in my family. I wanted to think it was an empty threat, but I knew that it wasn’t. I knew they would do it.

I had to start making plans to flee the country because I had basically been exiled for that reason. It was difficult to break that news to my family and I didn’t want to leave my family. I had no other choice because I was forced to leave the country as quickly as possible. I was told that if I go back, that I will get arrested right there at the airport when they check my passport and see my name. I fled the country in the beginning of October, and now here I am currently living in exile in Turkey until I get granted a U.S. visa and will be able then to hopefully get political asylum.

While the physical wounds and scars have long since healed for me already, it’s those emotional and mental wounds that are taking a lot longer to heal. Even now, the paranoia for me hasn’t ended. I still have nightmares of everything that happened — from being detained and tortured, from being beaten at protests. I have horrible flashbacks from time to time that make me feel as if everything is happening all over again. I can’t even stand to hear a knock on the door, because I just end up flinching and I’m always hesitant on opening the door unless I know exactly who is on the other side of that door. The good memories I have had of spending my summers and winters in Iran growing up, feel like they are slowly being replaced with the bad memories.

The only thing that I really hope for is that soon enough, things are going to change for my country and that things are going to better. Because enough is enough. It just can’t go on any longer than it has.