Chapter One

******************* Kashmir - 1981 ********************

You can barely see me through the thick darkness.

Sitting in the corner, a fractured soul.

I shed invisible tears, cry silent sobs.

Too many shattered memories to haunt my dreams, too many lies from too many lives.

The truth always threatening to destroy me.

I harden myself to the truth, create more lies to hold myself together.

I remove one mask and adopt another.

ItÕs all just a game of survival, kill or be killed. *******************************************

ItÕs an odd sense of deja-vu that comes over me as they bring me in. Perhaps itÕs the drugs they injected me with to suppress my adrenaline and keep me from fighting back. I can barely keep myself awake, but I refuse to sleep. There is too much going on, too many events to play over in my head. Where did everything go wrong? I struggle to maintain consciousness, I do not trust them. I do not trust anyone.

They drop me on the floor, I try to catch myself but find myself unable to hold my own weight. Whatever they injected me with must have been strong. I wonder how long before it wears off.

Sleep is just so inviting. It tugs at my eyelids, forcing them closed against my will.

**********************************************

Fully refreshed, I awake. The drugs have worn off completely. I wonder how long IÕve been asleep. I stand and stretch, my muscles are stiff and cramped from sleeping on the unforgiving cement.

My eyes scan the windowless cell. So this is Kashmir. The oh-so-dreaded Kashmir. The place they would warn us about. It all feels so long ago now, so distant. Everything does.

This most be one of the isolation cells. It is completely enclosed, the door is solid steel, with a thin horizontal window that looks out into a bare hallway. With no windows, there is no way for me to know what time of day it is. It is rather disorienting.

In the corner near the door there is a tray of food. It is cold and colorless, and no doubt drugged. I ponder whether or not to eat it. My stomach growls reminding me that IÕm hungry. If I donÕt ingest their sedatives willingly, they will most likely find a more forceful way to incapacitate me. I eat. The food is as tasteless as it is colorless, but it satisfies my hunger.

IÕve never stepped foot in this place before and yet I remember it all, like a long forgotten dream, or nightmare in this case. Then again I think perhaps my mind plays tricks on me.

I lean back against the wall and look up towards the camera high up in the corner. They are watching me. Probably observing my every action, analyzing them from some sort of evidence, some sort of proof, that IÕve betrayed them. Listening for me to call out their names in my sleep.

Inside I burn with anger. I played their game. I killed Laura, destroyed the loving wife and mother. What more could I have given them, what more do they want? and yet I know exactly what they fear, they fear she is not dead, fear that Laura can not be so easily killed.

To tell the truth, IÕm not even sure myself. I try to push her away, push away the thoughts of her daughter, her husband. My daughter. My husband.

I begin to wonder if the lie I lived in for so long was really a lie.