Sayid sat on the beach contemplating about what he had done a few day's earlier to Sawyer. He did not regret torturing the man but he did know what it was like. As he gazed off into the waves he remembered a time when he was tortured as well. He was new in the Iraqi Republican Guard, just a soft rookie looking for a purpose. None of his comrades liked him very much because he seemed to be the generals favorite; a goodie-goodie with a suck-up attitude.
He remembered one night when the sergeant burst into his companies room at four o'clock in the morning calling everyone to attention. Sayid had seen this before; it was either a mandatory run or someone was about to be punished for doing something wrong. The great man walked between the two lines of soldiers glaring at them as he spoke.
"Tonight someone has been wandering outside of camp." He said. Everyone looked around at each other to see who would confess. As Sayid looked around his eyes met Aran's, a fellow soldier who had a self-satisfied grin spread across his face. Sayid looked form side to side to see if maybe Aran was looking at someone else, but it indeed was him.
The sergeant stopped in front of Sayid, gave him the up and down, and then bent very far down gazing pas his ankles and towards his boots. He found them muddy and stood two inches from his face as he screamed. "Was it you, Sayid, who was wondering outside camp this night?"
Sayid didn't know what to do. He made the mistake of looking away towards his other comrades and the sergeant firmly grasped his chin. "Address me, soldier!" he barked.
He was confused and couldn't think. Everybody was watching him, expecting him to answer. If he didn't tell him he did it, then the whole company would be punished. He swallowed and managed to say, "Yes, your allegiance."
The man frowned and stepped back. He ordered Sayid to follow him and that everyone else get back to sleep. They all obeyed without another word. Sayid listened to his footsteps down the hall knowing that something dreadful was awaiting him. The Sergeant turned into a small room and waited at the door for him t follow inside. The door slammed behind him making him flinch back into reality.
Two men sat at a metal table both on the same side with a chair on the opposite side. Sayid looked towards his sergeant who gestured for him to sit. He did, feeling very frightened of the oncoming punishment, and nervously clutched his hands together.
"Put your hands on the table." Was all he said to him.
Sayid obeyed and the one man grasped him by the wrist at first gentle, but then more stern. The other man cracked his knuckles and delicately grabbed under Sayid's thumbnail. He continued his torture, ripping off each fingernail of Sayid's left hand, one at a time.
Sayid stood and brushed the memory from his mind. He couldn't and wouldn't think of any more torture. He needed to be more positive. As Aran used to say:
"Negativity decreases your chance of survival."