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The Untold Story

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Dazing throughout the dusted window sill, I who have beautiful size of 32 by 132 inches flat screen look on me, I could daily get the best glimpses of the warm evening sights of this country that I love most profoundly. Though it is filled with chaotic traffic, over flowing with extremely devoted Muslim people and authorities that do not know when to stop wanting more and more; there still is beauty in my land, Saudi-Arabia. I know that someday we will wake up of this nightmare we are living and seek the things up high.

Every day at around noon, the hour of the day when the heat was the most unbearable imaginable in this desert region of the world, was when they would most often gather up and meet in our not to mention “beautifully cared for” living room. They would be wearing their traditional completely white thobes* along with their red-white checked headdresses; that way they blending in to the rest of the Saudis.
They would watch me daily; their bleak expressions would make me quiver in aghast. At times they would use their poor English skills to speak to unknown men on the other side of the globe. Frightening conversations, they sure did not lack, for I would always wake up with the hysterical speeches that the leader of the crew occasionally had at night. However, something bothered me; my antenna seemed to have caught some important signal. There were nine of them in total; each in my mind having an air of suspicion in him.
The suspicion I had towards them was confirmed once the last prayer of the night was heard from the Kaaba*, which was not far from here; I knew that they would appear any second now. For I could observe them through the gap in the wall as they marched down the densely packed streets of Mecca, so I stiffened hastily to my original posture once again. In unity they were getting closer and closer to their “doom”.

All nine of them congregated in the tight house, carrying rifles under their thobes*. They seemed to be more nervous than usual and had much luggage lying outside on the back compartment of the rusted truck. Their eyes scrutinized every inch of the room in case someone on the face of the earth could somehow hear them. They whispered to each other in such low tones that I, who was right beside them, could hardly hear a word they said. From the clamor of their low spoken speeches, I came through the toughest words to digest.
They were planning an intentionally man-caused catastrophe. With such precision in their planning’s that they even thought of the slightest details. They intended to divert the attention caused by the planes that would crash the buildings in order to accomplish their task. All those midnight talks in English had been treaties made with people in the United States.
Sitting there in the loneliest of feelings of life, I listened to the jumbled up sounds of the old radio. I came to a halt of my famous ponder and I repeated the last words spoken by the Saudi commentator. As much as I told myself “no”, the truth was there, being repeatedly announced in sound of cry. Nineteen men had attacked the United States on this very day; fifteen being Arabs. They had managed to destroy the Twin-Towers in New York City and the Pentagon near Washington D.C. The sound of cry echoed in all my corners as I tried sorting all the commotion.
So while the planes (who were being flown by the ten other middle-eastern men) were diverting the attention of the civilians. The other crew of nine men, (that were with me in the beginning of the story) would enter the Twin-Tower building and set deathly bombs in there. “BANG!”


Kaaba: or House of God. The Kaaba itself is Islam's holiest site.

Thobes: Saudi men wear the traditional dress called a thobe.





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Alek93 said...
Jan. 4, 2010 at 6:29 pm
nice job Diana! :)
 
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