Geography Reference
In-Depth Information
Liu Chan-hua put down his ballpoint pen, took up a yardstick, and
brandished it menacingly, coming very close on several occasions to
piercing my eyeballs. My two hands were burning. Then, quicker than
lightning, the yardstick landed with a resounding whack on my right
cheek. A fiery flash of pain made me feel like he was using a red-hot
iron. As I cried out my left cheek was lashed with the yardstick, and I
said, “You beat people?!” With this he struck my right cheek even
harder, this time with his fist. My glasses flew off my face and I lost
my balance, collapsing onto my cot as I fell out of my chair, which went
flying. He then kicked my left knee with the sharp point of his leather
shoe, and as I struggled to make it back to my feet he kicked me hard
in my right knee. It seemed like I heard the sound of bones breaking,
andthefiercepaininbothkneesmademecryoutinpain.AsIrolled
around on the floor I got another brutal kick, this time in the sternum.
I crawled over to a corner of the room wailing in pain and feeling like
a stray dog that was about to be beaten to death under a hail of blows.
As I struggled to draw my knees in towards my chest I was kicked
directly in my right ear. I held my head and was unable to restrain
my cries.
“Now you listen here,” Liu Chan-hua said. “If you're flogged to
death, we'll just say you killed yourself out of fear for your crimes, and
that'll be the end of that. You've overestimated yourself.”
Suddenly he grabbed me by the hair, and then his fists rained down
on my face and chest. I struggled to block his blows with my hands,
but he kicked me in my exposed lower abdomen with his leather shoes.
I crashed my forehead on the floor but was not willing to die. And even
if I did die, it would not have stopped him from beating me. After all, an
agent would not be an agent if he cared whether a criminal lived or died.
I feared his kickings would give me a brain concussion or make an
invalid out of me.
“I'll confess! I'll confess,” I cried. “Don't beat me any more.”
“Alright. Sit back down in your place.”
It took all of three or four minutes for me to crawl from the corner to
the edge of the table. I was wet all over and could not manage the fete of
standing up. I was shaking like a withered and fallen leaf blown into a
corner by a strong wind. Perspiration, fresh blood, and tears covered
my face. I gasped for breath and wiped my face with my hand, and only
then did I know my face was covered with mud. Liu Chan-hua kindly
helped me up and into my chair.
“Out with it!” He took up his pad and ballpoint pen again. I don't
know where he threw the yardstick.
“I
” I thought to myself that I longed to know what he wanted
to hear me confess. What sort of participation in which subversive
organization would satisfy him? As I groped about mentally for a clue
to his intentions I saw the two characters for “Democratic Alliance”
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I
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