Guest
1. IMPRISONED WITH ISIS The heavy steel door slammed shut, caging me inside the suffocating room. I knew this cell. I had been here before. 3 years ago, I had this dream. Only this time, it wasn’t a dream, everything was happening in reality. There were six people in a cell two and a half by four meters wide. The walls of my new shelter were filthy, a strong stench of body odor filled the room. I lay down on the dirty tile floor that sent a chill through my thin T-shirt, and tried to sleep. At roughly 4:30 a.m., I was jolted awake by the azaan, the loud chanting of the morning call to prayer. My six cellmates repeated this movement as their chanted prayers filled the room. When they finished, the men started asking me what country I was from and what my business is. “We have no newspapers,” one of them said. I told them the first thing that came to mind - this is a terrorist attack in Paris, in which 129 people died. I added that ISIS had claimed responsibility for the suicide bombing
