inflection

His death caused the first withdraw in my optimism inaugurating inside me a time of anger and incredulity that would be intensified along the following months. The tortures sessions that had already turned in a routine were then made with an inexplicable obsessive pleasure. Each session was made with thirsty to dig up the last groan of the dictator and would end only when he entirely lose his conscience to restart the following day, more bloody and cruel. The shaking lips, the terrorized eyes, all feeding my anger and revolt. Screens answered with loudly laughs, to be repeated over and over along hours.
(...)
Since that time I had been aloof of old buddies. The torturers were always together - respected and (temido) even amongst the other soldiers. One night although when returning to the dormitory I heard steps over me and when I looked back I saw XXX. I haven't seen him for months and over the light I recognized a pale, skinny and far from the vitality of other times XXX. With a quite voice, almost whispering he put his hand on my shoulder and said looking at the ground "I shoot an indefensible child. I put fire on a family house. This war is a lye my friend!". And before any (suspiro) left in hurry, followed by his shadow until disappear in the dark lobby.
(...)
I reestablished my way until collapse in my bed to one more night of dark dreams.
(...)
The following day the torture was suspended. No rebels had stand still in the day before offensive. The prisoner would came back to his confinement and I to my keeper duties. That same day I presenced the transportation of the dictator to his cell. The man was a desgraced soul, his body (curvado) was conjunct of countable bones, a shrinked body dressed in rags was transported to his cell, terrified eyes occupied all his face. Looking that man over the light of the corridor I felt panic. The words of XZXX became an ininterrupted funeral march echoing eternely.
S.A.B1.
Ott-Winter, 2009.