The Dead Boy
I’m dirt. . That’s what everyone calls us, ” . . You dirt, come on . . do it while you’re alive . . . bitch”.
We are all girls up to two years old. Six and a half for you.
We have to clean up the shit. It’s everywhere. .
And they fuck us and beat us afterwards. The guards. They’re evil. .
( .. no, “rape” means you could have resisted. . We don’t resist. . . – right away. . . You have no such word. . . no “torn apart” – it means just torn into pieces. . . we have worse. . You don’t need it. ).
I’m always being raped. I resist. But they don’t kill – I’m very beautiful. They only hit me hard. The eye was knocked out back then. .
One-eyed is not fucked. They just beat. For fun.
I didn’t see the stone. They deliberately put it down so that I would fall. I stumbled when I was bringing them a pee pot. I fell and everything spilled. I looked, I looked, but with one eye is hard to see. . .
This time they beat me especially hard. They broke my arm, ribs. . . they tore the stomach with a hook from the very bottom to the navel, . . . female. .
I crawled away when they were done. . . tired of hitting me. .
And also the security guard I’m pregnant baby with called them. . . On purpose. To stop it. He’s not as evil as the overseers. .
The baby died in my belly. He is one moon. .
I crawled away to die in a hole, a drain – where shit and bones are thrown. You can hide there. They won’t go there. They think – it will die there anyway. .
I didn’t die for a long time. Then I don’t remember. . Then I saw them. . . – they decided to pull me out with hooks, so they could mock again. . They probably heard that I was alive when I couldn’t remember myself. . Or maybe someone said that I was still alive. Who hears thoughts. .
I squeezed further into the hole, deeper into the shit. . They won’t get it here.
You don’t need to know any more. That is ALL. .
No one remembers that boy. . I haven’t stopped remembering yet, I haven’t completely stopped. . .
And he remembers them. This was his first life. Out of nine. .