07.09.05 Vincent. Just translate.

She see him, there, standing in front of her. Her eyes cried blood, of hatred and fatigue. She could open only one of them. She could fell all of her muscles one by one still exhausted, trembling and warm. Seated her head bent forward, she didn’t fell the drops folling of her ,still wet hair, on her thighs. Her mouth on-the-jar, coughed in an atrocious effort. She didn’t fell the sweet taste of happiness in her mouth any more. She only had the bitter and gross taste of death but she didn’t want to die now. She only wanted to disappear, to be an angel, to fly away, to feel pain no more. She only wished to fresh and vivifying breeze and to go to the sky in haven but the reality was different. She became aware again. The man still didn’t move yet. He growled and said something that she didn’t undestantd but maybe ‘’ come on , come on fast ‘’. What ? There were giong to be other spectators of her agony. Her hatred rose : that one person could do all of this to her, she already didn’t undestand but how was it possible ? How could people approve of this and participate to of the worf experience in a life.

She opened her eyes and saw his silhouette but she couldn’t see his face which was only lit from the back by a weak light that came from the first floor.

She was in the middle of a white room. She was black. On other less horrible circumstances, this scene would have been magnificient, a beautiful contrast. But this time nothing was nice.

She wanted to shrill, to shrill with all her forces but the man who had come near her heard only hear a breath of area go out of his mouth, accompanied with drops of blood which fell on the floor, mixedwith tears and sweat.

The man whispered "  Everything’s all right, we will take care of you. She began to cry, she didn’t want to that all over and over again. The man Shouted ‘’ come on, she’s here ’’. It was rather unusual : generally, he only wispered ; she could hear his voice for the first time.She turned her head to see his fucking face, before implementing everything to abbreviate her suffering as fast as possible.

She had a vague glimpse of a sort of helmet ; the man moved too fast for her, everything became more or less confused but she saw some kind of brandrame on this tee-shirt or his pull-over ( it does’t matter much).

Suddenly, she felt her hands get loose from her tightened and moist chains which hurt her wrist as each time before her torment. She fell into the arms of the man who got up to him more satisfied than ever under torches held by his relieved companions. Everything took place very fast but she living it sluggishly. She fell asleep peacefully. Knowing that on his pullover or shirt (What now had strictly no importance) was inscribed ‘’ police ‘’.