"No. The man now sounded angry. Not fifty. You're forty. Do you hear? Eighteen and forty." He disappeared into the darkness. Another inmate appeared, unleashing a stream of invectives: Sons of bitches, why have you come here? Tell me, why?" pg. 30
??
You're 18 and you're 40.
Sons of bitches
"...children thrown into the flames. (Is it any wonder that ever since then, sleep tends to elude me?) So that was where we were going. A little farther on, there was another, larger pit for adults." pg. 32
WHY?!?
"Dozens of inmates were there to receive us, sticks in hand, striking anywhere, anyone, without reason. The orders came: Strip! Hurry up! Raus! Hold on only to your belt and your shoes..." pg. 35
STRIP, NOW!!!
"I stood petrified. What had happened to me? My father had just been struck, in front of me, and I had not even blinked. I had watched and kept silent. Only yesterday, I would have dug my nails into this criminal's flesh. Had I changed that much? So fast? pg. 39
Why did he just slap my father?? I wish I could do something.