… then he slapped me. He barked something in Arabic and they all immediately surrounded me. They dragged me to the corridor again. The ropes tightened around my wrists. They tied them around my ankles and hung me with my head down. “Well, now you’re going to tell us everything,” my tormentor growled. He pulled out a thick cable wrapped in black insulation and thrashed me. The first blow cut through my heels with pain I had never experienced before. This was just the beginning … the longest night of my life had begun.
My name is Valya Chervenyashka. Maybe you have heard about me. I am a nurse by trade. Now I’m 54 years old. Eight of them I spent behind the bars of several prisons, accused of mass murder. Three times I have been sentenced to death. Coarse voices have cursed me, unknown hands have insulted my body, hundreds of throats have called my name, thousands of hearts have passionately prayed for my death and millions of people from all kinds of countries have seen my face … few people are indifferent to me.
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