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Twist Me Anna Zaires 14580K 2023-09-01

"There are no other aliases you’ve heard hient Bosovsky asks me for the third time, after their Interpol query comes back without any results

"No," I say patiently "I only knew hiuess about the identities of the men who stole us from Julian’s clinic turned out to be correct They were indeed part of a particularly dangerous Jihadist organization called Al-Quadar--that much the FBI had been able to find out

"This just doesn’twith frustration "Anyone with that kind of clout should have been on our radar If he was head of an illegal organization that e weapons, how is it possible that not a single governency is aware of his existence?"

I don’t knohat to tell hiatorsabout hi the FBI about Julian’sthis inforet my parents in trouble and could potentially cause the FBI to think that I had been Julian’s accessory After all, what kidnapper sends et ho overto me with a million questions that I can’t answer Most of all, I’ around so many people After more than a year with minimal human contact, I feel overwhelmed by the airport crowds

I find my old room in my parents’ house virtually untouched "We always hoped you’d be back,"with happiness I s her out of the rooht now--because I don’t kno long I can keep up ht, as I take a shower in rief and cry

Teeks after my arrival home, I move out of my parents’ house They try to talk me out of it, but I convince them that I need this--that I have to be on my own and independent The truth of the matter is, as much as I love my parents, I can’t be around theirl they re to pretend to be her

It’s much easier to be ive ift to thee--but I refuse The way I see it, that e and I want it used for that purpose After nureee and refinance the rest, and the reh I technically don’t need to work for a while, I get a waitressing job anyway It gets --which is exactly what I need right now There are nights when I don’t sleep and days when getting out of bed is torture The e, and it takes every bit of th to function at a sehtmares My mind replays Beth’s death and the warehouse explosion over and over again, until I wake up drenched in cold sweat After those drea for Julian, for the warmth and safety of his embrace I feel lost without hi wound that refuses to heal

I miss Beth, too I miss her no-nonsense attitude, her matter-of-fact approach to life If she was here, she would be the first one to tell me that shit happens and that I should just deal with it She would want me to move on

And I trybut the senseless violence of her death eats at ht--I didn’t knohat real hatred was before I didn’t knohat it was like to want to hurt soo back in time and kill the terrorist who murdered Beth so brutally, I would do it in a heartbeat It’s not enough for me that he died in that explosion I wish I had been the one to end his life

My parents insist that I see a therapist To pacify theo a few times It doesn’t help I’er, and our sessions end up being a waste of tiht frame of mind to receive therapy-- again, but I can’t do the same sunny landscapes as before My art is darker now, ain, trying to get it out of my mind, and every time it comes out a little different, a little more abstract I paint Julian’s face, too I do it from memory, and it bothersperfection of his features No ht

All of e, so for the first couple of weeks, I only speak to them on the phone and via Skype They don’t quite kno to act around me, and I don’t bla raduation, but I know they feel strange talking about boyfriend troubles and exams to someone they see as a victim of a horrible cri curiosity in their eyes, and I can’t bring myself to talk to them about my experience on the island