“Go on, keep singing.” “I want a naked woman tonight...”
I could barely move my face; it was buffeted from side to side.
I would open my eyes and they would shut again with the impact of the blows.
I didn’t know if I was supposed to stop or if I had to obey him... but within my pain I had decided something.
That was to be my last beating, even if it meant if I had to die.
When he stopped for a moment and ordered me to sing again, I didn’t.
I looked at him with contempt and said: “Murderer! Go ahead and kill me. You’ll get what you deserve in prison!”
Only then did he get up from the chair, seething with anger.
He unbuckled his belt, which had two metal rings, and began to reel off a string of insults.
He called me a dog, a waste of space, a good-for-nothing, if that was how I spoke to my father.
He cracked the belt at my body like a whip. It felt like it had a thousand fingers that could hit me all over.
I fell to the floor and curled up in a corner by the wall. I was sure he was going to kill me.
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