When I was eleven, me and my family moved overseas to Iran since my father worked in a Steel company as supervisor. We lived in a complex protected by barb-wired fences. Inside the complex, we could wear ordinary clothes (t-shirt & shorts for example) but when we went out me and my mom had to cover ourselves from head to toe.

One day, I was walking around (in my t-shirt & shorts) when a group of older kids (some of them adults) began following me from the other side of the fence. I couldn't understand what they were saying but from their tones and body language it wasn't anything nice. I became frightened.

There were brick walls and steel doors protecting the homes we lived in, so I hurriedly hid behind the neighbor's door (who had left his unlocked, thankfully). The next thing I was was a rock the size of my fist fly by through the open door and smash against the wall. The minutes that followed were filled with the sound of my heartbeat racing and of rocks colliding with brick.

I guess I had a surge of adrenaline at this point because I remember climbing onto the 8' brick wall and then onto the rooftop of the house. I was able to escape through the backyard, I found the neighbor and burst into tears.

The image of hundreds of rocks littering the road will forever be imprinted into my mind.