The 100 Rupees Note

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic

The story of a boy who finds out what life is like when you're kidnapped and tortured.

The 100 Rupees Note.

By Azan Rasool Khan.

It was the most tiring day of my life. I had somehow managed to survive Mr. Aziz’s boring lecture. It was home time and as always I was with my friends for 20 minutes. Wasay had found a 100 rupees note and he was about to spend it all on sweets. He almost bought a bar of chocolate but I snatched the note from him. “What do I do with this money”, I said to myself. I thought of splitting it 50/50 with Wasay but I remembered my Islamiat teacher’s saying. He told us that if we ever find extra money on the floor, we should give the money to the poor or the needy so that was what I had decided. I asked Wasay to hand over the money to a needy person but he was too busy to do a simple task.

 So the next thing I know is that I leave my house and head over to the next street to give money to a random guy. My street was like the Times Square of Lahore and not in a good way. There was lots of heat near the samosas shop. The heat finally reduced when I came to the back alley and saw a young boy most probably 16 years old. I head over to him and took the 50 rupees note out of my pocket when suddenly he made a gesture to the man behind me and he held a gun at my head.

“Give me all the money you have”, he said. For a second I couldn’t handle the situation and my heart stopped working. He shouted at me again. This time I gave him the 100 rupees I had but he got mad at me for having this little money. “Let’s go”, said the young boy. “No, this rascal wasted my time and now I need to get some money to feed my family”, he replied. He held the gun at me while the younger boy called some guy named Rafiq and told him to come.

We waited a few minutes and a red van came. They pushed me into it and there was complete darkness. Something hit my head and the next thing I know was that I was tied to a chair. There was duct tape on my mouth. A man came into the room I was in. “Give me your father’s number”, he shouted at me. I did as he said. He took out a red phone from his pocket and dialed my father’s number. He called him and said, “We have your son with us. If you try to do something over smart you won’t even get to see his dead body. Now listen, give us 20 lack rupees by the end of the week if you want to see your son”. He brought the phone to my ears and I heard my father saying,” Azan? Are you okay, my son? Answer me! Did they hurt you?” “Papa? Pap”, and those were the only words I could say. The man took the phone away from me and went into the next room. For awhile I started to get worried but the man came back this time with a plate full of rice. He removed the tape from my mouth. “Please let me go! I’m innocent!” I exclaimed. He told me to shut up and started feeding me the rice. I shut up and ate the rice. I was about to ask for some water but I passed out.

The next thing that I remember is that I woke up to a bucket of freezing water. I tried to control my brain freeze as a lot of water got into my mouth. He cut me loose and took me to the van. “Where are we going?” I asked the man. “Shut up and look forward”, he replied to me. We were moving when I saw that the van door to my left was free. I thought on my plan for a moment and agreed that I had to jump for my life. I quickly opened the door and jumped out of the van. I hurt my legs and left arm badly but I had no other option other than running. I recited an Islamic verse from the Holy Quran and ran towards a little government hospital near me. I entered and saw a nurse. I walked towards her and she called the doctor. They took me on a stretcher and the nurse asked me if my legs and arm were hurting badly. I shouted, ”yes!” She gave me some syrup and I felt unconscious. When I woke up I saw my mother and father sitting beside my bed. Mother started crying when I opened my eyes and kissed my forehead. The doctor came in and called me a fighter. He said that I had somehow managed to run away from two nation terrorists and that I had a broken arm bone. I closed my eyes and cried for a second. The next week I returned home with my mom and dad but this time everything had changed. I was on T.V the whole day. I saw a story on me on the newspaper. I got really disappointed at the fact that my life had just turned into a story for magazines and T.V channels. I left my room and went into the laundry room and saw my clothes from the incident. I checked my pockets and saw the 100 rupees note in it.

Submitted: November 20, 2014

© Copyright 2021 Azan Khan. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:


Ben A Vanguarde

Good Story telling skills. Nice twist of an ending.

Thu, November 20th, 2014 1:26pm


Thank you so much!

Thu, November 20th, 2014 9:06am

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