Religion. Violence.

The image of this girl keeps running through my mind. The girl who survived the attack on the Red Mosque in Pakistan. She was 15 years old. 15 years old and talking so passionately about taking down her president. Willingly to give her life if she had to take off her nikab.
She didn't look that frightening. She didn't look like "your average terrorist”. She looked like any Middle Eastern 15 girl. While I was reading the translation of the things she said, the things she believed in, a thought crossed my mind. “She could have been in my class. She could have lived in the same street as I, yet she'll probably hate me. Hate me wholeheartedly for what I believe (or rather not believe) and how I dress. Probably she'll want me to die and go to hell. 15 year old.
I try to but I can't imagine what it must be like to live in her world. To live in her reality. She passionately believes in her religion, but she also uses her religion as a weapon of mass destruction. Thanks to the indoctrination in her mosk, she is no longer an innocent 15 year old girl. Now she is a warrior. She is a 15 year old terrorist. I wish I could have seen her face. I wish I had looked into her eyes more to see what was really going on in there. Is that really what she believes in? Violence as a religion? I don't know. But I am not able to get her picture out of my mind.