First Grain of Sand — Page 115
THE TORTURE BEGINS 99 When he removed the ropes, I did not have enough strength to even get up. My body was covered in open wounds, and my clothes were blanketed with my blood from the injuries I sus- tained on my entire body. My arms were dreadfully swollen and were in such throbbing pain that I was unable to move them at all, let alone use them. I was particularly wounded around my joints, which produced such deep and forceful pain that I could not stand up on my own. Two soldiers had to lift me up and very slowly take me from this dark room back to my normal room. My face and head were masked in both dirt and bloody wounds. On the way to my room, I saw Ghulam Rasool—the young Turkish inmate who had already become an Ahmadi Muslim— who was at the faucet getting water for himself. I gestured to him requesting to give me water. He quickly brought his glass up to my lips and helped me drink water. While doing so, he observed the wounds stretching from my head and face down over my body and was visibly shocked to see me in this condition. After I was able to drink this water, the soldiers took me to my room where they laid me down, closed the door, and left. Two days later, they took me to visit the highest-ranking officer's second-in-command in order for him to pass a judge- ment about me that can inform his superior's final decision about me. When he looked at me, he asked what happened to my body. Speaking through the Ahmadi translator, I told him with a heavy heart that the night before, his soldiers severely beat me, bound my wounded body to a wooden board with thick ropes, and threw me in a dark room all night. While showing him all the wounds on my body and arms, I told him I have committed no crime because