Page 92 - Thorn In The Heart

Thorn In The Heart

Therefore, all people in the three groups raised their heads,
gave their nasty look at the French soldiers and the hates were
full on their angry eyes. They would like to fight back French
militarist soldiers to be free, but their hands were nothing to
defend. And they knew that the right was on the side of the man,
who had power and gun on his hand.

French militarist soldiers' rifles had directed at them and
were ready to open fire at the people any time if the people will
have any actions to resist them, even talking. The people were
silent to hold back the hate in their souls, biting their jaws with
the sobbing on their tearful eyes. Then they bent down their
heads, quiet with the sorrow painful suffering to live in the
dangerous situation.

The people were born and living in a small country like
Vietnam. They were always struggling for seeking independence
and freedom, or afraid to be killed by the militarist soldiers of
the supper nation as French colonist soldiers without reasonable
in an accidence.

Few French militarist soldiers dragged her toward a house of
a short distance from the church, contented their animalization
until she had dead tired. They left her on the ground and walked
away. Two or three hours late she staggered walking back the
front Church with her rough hair and clothes torn to tatters. Her
face and body were bruises by beating. The blood was bleeding
out of her mount and between her legs. She brought her painful
soul and body back to the people in the village, made the people
fell deep into the bottom of the sorrow. It mixed with the hate
for French colonial that appeared on the people’s fire eyes. They
remembered everything that French militarist had done for them
and will tell all the sad stories with the next generations.

All people of three groups looked at her with their sorrow
and tearful eyes of suffering, but their faces turned red, hard of
the angry. They knew that French militarist beat black, blue on
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