Zoe Holohan

But he saw the right eye flicker, so he carried me out of the car.

And I remember, I remember I could see him.

I remember him lifting me up, peeled me out of the boot and carried me through literally wall after wall of slams.

My left hand, the one that had been welded to the boot, hardly looked like a hand anymore.

It was a thing of a horror movie.

It was like shriveled up, curled bones.

There was no skin left on it anymore, just screeds of flesh hanging on it.

And I remember thinking, that's what my hand looks like.

What does my face look like?

Which might sound like a very stupid thing to say, considering what had just happened to Brian, but these are the things that go through your mind.

So I lay there for a long time, begging them, begging them to find Brian.

I already had gone into the moment of denial.

And somebody, eventually a translator came in.

And I said, you have to find Brian.

And I started to describe him.

I started to describe his tattoos.

I said, where, you know, that man who saved me, he's there.

Tell him to go back.

And he said, no, no one's going back there.

No one's going back there to that.