Sand and blood

He felt the smell of blood coming out from his nose, its taste on his throat. Blood that was dripping and mixing to the sand. He felt weak, he was dizzy and very injured, he saw distorted images and the buzzing in the ears mixed itself to the anger whines of his aggressors that were feeling pleasure in the violence.

“Don't hurt him or then U.N. won't give us political support if we show disrespect to the human rights” - the leader of the opposition said. And he turned to the injured man: “It doesn't mean you don't desert it, but for us is more interesting taking your place and restoring the republic than seeing you dead. We can provide it later”.

The Arab Spring had come and the king, that got the power through a coup d'état, was falling. His father had been the king, but he was murdered by the revolutionaries that proclaimed the republic.

The reign of the young and gorgeous king haven't last so much and he didn't feel motivated for this. He always felt that love was rubbish because since he was a teenager he could have the odalisques he wanted thanks to his beauty and power. Having a female company had never been a problem and he thought that it would never be. Untill the moment he found one and felt in love for true, intensively. As she had a bad reputation face to the society, he promised to run away with her for them to feel this feeling together.

It wasn't what happened. He got scared of what he was feeling, scared of ending up committing a huge mistake and giving it all up. He tried to convince himself that she was just his first passion of the never-ending summer and decided to dismiss her. He was about to become the king and needed a first lady of his high level.

The coup d'état and the marriage with the international actress had come, as well as the power but... not the happiness. He was the one before that woman but it wasn't the same. He saw a new world, wider, but he understood it as a curse because he wasn't the same one he was: he felt more vulnerable and his loss of security and psychological instability worried his allies.

After a diplomatic event the king started to show he wasn't fine. It was as if the craziness had got him. He decided to get rid of the knowledge and surrender himself to luxury once again. Conducted by Indian drivers and male chauvinist humor TV show female assistants from the East Europe, he burned the books, the wisdom, what he was feeling and was sexually devoured by the woman that made the Indian drivers to feel envy. This kind of self-exorcism session haven't helped because the king was getting worse and worse, more depressive and self-destructive.

The wave of the Arab Spring came to the Maghreb via Twitter and Facebook. It was a revolutionary wave against the tyranny and the fact of taking the power by non-democratic ways incited the opulent opposition to wish to take the power in a more nice way through United States and United Nations eyes. The king was very depressed to refrain any kind of uprising against his government and then, he lost the support of his allies.

Allies that changed their political support. Allies that gave his head to the revolutionaries group that beat him up in front of everybody. Nothing else mattered; losing the power, losing blood, losing his life. He had never felt in love so deeply and he hadn't lost any women yet to learn how to deal with his depression. His regret was stronger because he dismissed her. He loved Sakineh.