All the Memories Flooding Back

America was a place where I could bury the memories. What I didn't realize was that my trip back to Afghanistan would change my life entirely. My journey started off with a visit to Rahim Khan. He was living in my childhood house. It killed me inside to see Rahim Khan in such pain. As we talked and chatted our conversation came to Hassan. Rahim Khan proceeded to tell me that Hassan got happily married and had a son named Soharb. He gave me a letter that Hassan wrote to me. I carefully examined the letter. He wrote to me about the childhood memories we shared and how his son reminds him so much of us. After reading, Rahim Khan told me he had something else to say. Ali was not Hassan real father. In fact, Hassan and I were half brothers. Baba loved Hassan so much but never got to be the father he wanted to be to him. Hassan really was family. I couldn't understand. How could Baba lie to me like that? My whole life felt like a lie. I wanted to see Hassan at that moment. Tell him how sorry I was and thank him for standing up for me numerous times. But, with the Taliban in charge, I leared that Hassan and his wife were shot to death on the streets and Soharb was taken to an orphanage. Rahim Khan only had one request for me: to bring Soharb back to him.
I journeyed through Afghanistan with my old driver Fraid. My eyes were exposed to the poorest of the poor in Afghanistan. Something no one should ever have to witness yet alone live like. How could the place of my youth be gone? The streets were filled with beggars and there was no kite flying.
We reached the orphanage only to find that Soharb was taken by the Taliban leader. There was no stopping me, I had to find this little boy.
As we reached the Taliban's house my heart thudded and I had sweat running down my face. I remember walking through doors guards on each side. I was greeted by the Taliban leader: Assef. Talk about childhood flashbacks. Assef and his friends were the ones that beat up Hassan in the ally. He remembered me and I remembered him. I couldn't believe my eyes when Soharb emerged. He was an exact replica of Hassan. Of course Assef wouldn't give Soharb away for free. Assef looked at his guards and stated, "One of us will walk back out through these doors. If Amir succeeds, let him be." I had to dual Assef for Soharb.
Three hours later we walked out the door. I was great pain. And then, it all went black.
I woke up two days later in a hospital near Peshawar. The doctor said I was lucky to be alive. I had suffered from spleen rupture, seven broken ribs, a punctured lung, and various lacerations in which my jaw had to be wired shut for six weeks.
Soharb had saved my life and all the pain was worth it.
With Rahim Khan deseased my wife Soraya and I sucessfully adopted Soharb into our home. My world revolves around this little boy. I hope that someday he grows up to be just like his father.