A Yazidi boy who escaped an ISIS training camp and 
made a daring trek to safety across the desert of northern Iraq told 
FoxNews.com in an exclusive interview about his hellish, nine-month 
ordeal under the black-clad terrorist army’s brutal grip.
                
                
              
            
                Now safe in a Kurdish-run refugee camp, Ahmed Amin 
Koro, 15, fears he will never again see his father again. He wonders how
 the tight-knit religious minority can recover from the scars inflicted 
by ISIS in the nearly two years since it stormed Mount Sinjar, the 
ancestral home of 150,000 Yazidi.
                
                
              
            
                “For a moment, if I feel happy, my neighbors are 
not,” Ahmed told FoxNews.com in a Skype interview arranged by Kurdish 
authorities. “We cannot be happy. “We think of others who are with ISIS.
 It is a difficult life.”
                
                
    
    
    
        
Ahmed was just 13 when ISIS laid siege to Mount 
Sinjar in early August of 2014. For days, the Yazidi, an ancient 
religious minority wrongly regarded by many in the region as devil 
worshippers, remained trapped in the towns that dot the mountainside, 
such as Tel Qasab, Tel Banat, Qahtania and Mojamaa Al Jazeera, as the 
world watched a humanitarian crisis unfold. Iraqi military choppers 
airlifted some to safety, while others formed convoys to flee down the 
only road leading off the mountain.
                
                
              
            
                Ahmed’s father had desperately hoisted him and his 
little brother into a relative’s vehicle and stayed behind, but moments 
later, ISIS fighters manning a checkpoint on the road stopped the car.
                
                
    
    
    
        
”At first they told us, ‘We have no problem with you,
 you are all our brothers and our sisters,’” the soft-spoken boy told 
FoxNews.com from the Kurdish city of Duhok. “At first they told us they 
wouldn’t hurt us.”
                
                
              
            
                While Ahmed and the other children were being whisked
 50 miles east to the ISIS-controlled town of Tal Afar, the Islamist 
army was moving up the mountain with savage precision, destroying entire
 villages and burying countless men and women alive in a horrific scene 
that galvanized international disgust. Witnesses would later give grimly
 similar accounts of military-age men being summarily executed while 
other adults were told to convert to Islam or die.
                
                
              
            
                Yazidi are ethnically Kurds, but follow a pre-Islamic
 faith with links to Zoroastrianism. Of the 500,000 Yazidi in Iraq, more
 than 200,000 have been displaced or killed since the rise of ISIS, 
according to the United Nations.
                
                
              
            
                Ten days after the seige began, Kurdish forces backed
 by U.S. air strikes drove the jihadists off the mountain, but not 
before the Yazidi community was devastated and scattered. Ahmed and his 
brother wound up in an ISIS education camp, where they and as many as 
1,500 other Yazidi children were beaten, starved, forced to memorize the
 Koran and taught to kill.
                
                
              
            
                “It wasn’t a school, it was like a prison,” Ahmed 
said. “We were forced to prayer, we were told we were jihadists and we 
were not Yazidi anymore.”
                
                
              
            
                The children were awakened before sunrise for morning
 prayers, and fed scraps they washed down with contaminated water that 
left them ill, Ahmed said. Yazidi girls were taken away each day to be 
sold to ISIS fighters, Ahmed said, recalling one mother’s desperate plea
 for mercy on her young daughter.
                
                
              
            
                “The mom cried that her little girl was too young and
 she didn’t know anything about marriage or sex, but they didn’t care 
and took her anyway,” Ahmed said.
                
                
              
            
                Young women with little brothers told their captors 
the boys were their sons in the hope that it would make them less 
desirable, he said. If a virginity test conducted by an ISIS doctor 
proved them wrong, they were beaten for lying, Ahmed said.
                
                
              
            
                “The girls were covering their faces with dirt, 
trying to make themselves less beautiful,” Ahmed said. “But if they were
 caught doing that they were beaten. They were all beaten and taken 
away. ISIS beat us too.”
                
                
              
            
                After one month, Ahmed and his brother were moved to a
 jihadist military training camp closer to Mosul where Koran 
memorization was enforced with severe punishment. Boys were trained day 
and night in the use of guns, hand-to-hand combat and learned to fight 
in close quarters, said Ahmed, who acknowledged witnessing numerous 
murders by ISIS’ cruel instructors.
                
                
              
            
                Yazidi boys were told they were being groomed to take
 their place on the frontline to fight the Kurds, as well as their own 
people, said Ahmed, who knew he and his brother had to escape.
                
                
              
            
                Eight months into his ordeal, the boys got permission
 to visit a relative in Tal Afar, he said. Soon after they arrived, ISIS
 enforcers there mounted a crackdown, rounding up men and boys in a 
monstrous replay of the scene on Mount Sinjar. In the frenzied 
confusion, the boys hid under the rubble of a damaged building mosque 
until night fell and danger passed, Ahmed said.
                
                
              
            
                In the morning, they began their arduous quest across
 some 50 miles of desert to return to their mountain home, Ahmed said. 
The boy recounted how he and his brother waited for hours outside an 
ISIS base until its occupants went inside a mosque for prayers, then 
darted into a building to fill their water bottles.
                
                
              
            
                 “We knew we would die without water,” Ahmed said. 
“We were so thirsty we drank it all and walked again until we found a 
small stream to fill them up again.”
                
                
              
            
                They never made it to Mount Sinjar, but they did find
 a Kurdish-controlled village where locals were all-too familiar with 
their plight. They called representatives of a Kurdish Regional 
Government agency called the Office of Kidnapped Affairs. The boys 
waited for the final leg of their deliverance.
                
                
              
            
                 “We stayed quiet and still until it was dark, we 
couldn’t walk anymore. We were starving,” Ahmed said, his voice a 
whisper. “Relatives came in the car to get us. Nobody knew before that 
we had been trying to escape.”
                
                
              
            
                Since that day, Ahmed and his brother have been 
reunited with their mother and sister in the camp, where the boys 
support their family working in a store and attend school in a makeshift
 classroom.
                
                
              
            
                Of an estimated 5,000 Yazidi captured in the ISIS 
assault on Mount Sinjar, about a third have escaped, been ransomed or 
smuggled to freedom. Perhaps most troubling to this fractured and 
misunderstood community is the prospect that some of its sons and 
brothers have been brainwashed and turned against their own people.
                
                
              
            
                In Ahmed’s case, eight months of dark indoctrination 
has not shaken his sense of right and wrong. Instead of anger, he feels 
only sad resignation and a wistful longing for a life that may be gone 
forever.
                
                
              
            
                “I want to see my Dad again,” he said. “I want to go 
back to Sinjar and I want to live peacefully with all my community – all
 of us – safe and together again.”