This is the seventh part of my short story "A Flat". Please, would you proofread it.
They arrived before dawn. The sound of the engines, the screech of the brakes and the yells of the police officers woke up dogs in the street which started barking viciously. The police officers, the automatic weapons in their hands surrounded the flat from all sides while one of them pounded on the door shouting, “Police! Open the door!” A minute later, Ivan appeared in the door, dressed in his blue and white striped pyjamas, his hair tousled from sleep.
“What d’you want?” he asked in his drowsy voice.
“Are you Ivan Mandic?” the police officer asked.
When Ivan replied affirmatively, the police officer said, “You’re arrested. Put your clothes on and come with us!”
Three police officers came inside and one of them started pulling out the drawers from the chest of drawers and emptying their contents on the floor. The others went into the living room and turned the entire room upside down, pulling out seat and back cushions from the armchairs and sofas, opening cupboards and sweeping everything off.
They even took the picture of the great leader from the wall and looked behind it.
Jelena came out of the bedroom wearing her white night dress and noticing strange men in blue uniforms with revolvers dangling from their belts, she began screaming hysterically.
“Shut your mouth!” growled a stocky police officer and gave her a murderous gaze. Her screams turned into sobs. Meanwhile, the children in their room had been awoken by the noise and started crying and calling out for their mother.
“This is a big mistake,” Ivan said. “I’ve never done anything wrong in all my life.”
But before he could continue, the policeman slapped him across the face, shouting at him, “Hurry up! If you don’t obey my order you’ll end up in a morgue.” And to prove that he was not joking, he pulled the revolver out of the holster and levelled it at him.
The police officer was a young man in his early twenties and his blow caused Ivan more psychological than physical pain, reminding him of his childhood and the day when he had lost a sheep and when upon returning home his father hit him across the face and scolded him off for his carelessness. Back then, he could forgive his father, because he was much older than Ivan was, but he would never forgive this rude yokel hurting him, an innocent man.
He dressed himself under the vigilant eyes of the men, and before he came out he told Jelena not to worry, he was going to be back home very soon. They shoved him into the back of the blue van and drove off.
Soon he sat alone in the small, smelly prison cell with a hole in the dirty concrete floor instead of a toilet and a narrow barred window which was so high up that he could not reach it. The morning sun was slanting through the window and falling on the simple wooden table and an old dirty mattress on the floor. Ivan’s eyes swept the cell, noticing names and dates that previous inmates had scratched in the walls. His dizzy brain still did not want to accept the reality; instead, he believed to be in a nightmare from which he was going to wake up and later cycle to his work.
He had heard stories about people who had been suddenly imprisoned for their political ideas or because they dared to criticize the great leader, but he was a simple worker who never cared about politics. He truly loved the great leader and was grateful that he lived in a country in which he was not only the President but also the commander-in-chief of the army.
Ivan was convinced that if he knew what had happened to one of his workers, the great leader would personally intervene and punish those who had made such a dreadful mistake and imprisoned a man who wouldn’t hurt a fly. He knew that before long the heavy door was going to open and someone was going to apologise to him and they would drive him back home and offer to compensate him for the pain and mayhem they caused.
TO BE CONTINUED
Thank you very much for your time and your help.
God bless you!