Struggle. Love. Cry. Hope.
For Romanian click here.
A novel first published in Romanian (Eikon 2017), available in English (translated by Mihaela Alecu) on Amazon (click on the image).
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No one knew what had happened inside. But, suddenly, they heard an inhuman yowl, which froze everyone’s blood, women and men. The door was thrown aside, pushed by Ahad’s foot who, screaming, completely naked, was holding Azade by her hair, dragging her out of the hut.
Azade, got one more look at the women, like for “good bye”, before crushing to the ground, with blood dripping from the stomach, from the place penetrated a few moments earlier by the foreign body of Ahad’s knife. He had taken out the immense knife, preparing to stab it again, this time aiming for the woman’s heart, a heart that would not submit to him, who thought of himself to be its master.
Azade didn’t understand at that point why the knife froze in his hand, and blood was coming out of his chest, not hers. She closed her eyes. It seemed to her that she was hearing something she never heard before. It could have been bullets, she thought, because the men that had kept them prisoners for so long were dropping to the ground almost simultaneously, without getting a chance to react. She heard other voices of men, uttering languages she loved, like German and English, men who were checking and were convinced that all tormentors were dead.
“All clear,” she heard.
She thought she saw Bryan, already rushing ahead of signal, from somewhere behind the soldiers, dressed in a military uniform as well, but holding in his hand a first aid kit, not a weapon.
In a few jumps he reached her. Azade didn’t understand why she couldn’t move, why she couldn’t hug Bryan…
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