She was thrown against the wooden wall of the place where I was settled in. The place was dominated by females and by handful of men with some I barely know including my father.
The screams of pain and shrieks of agony was heard outside their room. It vibrated across the small space where all the guests decided to mingle. The sound of face being hit by someone’s palms and continuous bashing of flesh made the crowd fell silent and stare towards the shoji separating the onlooking eyes from the screams of tears.
Then the shoji opened and a naked lady was pushed out and fall flat against the tatami flooring. Her eyes looked around the shocked people. Her hair was cut straight up until her jawline and her bangs filled her forehead.
Her skin was surprisingly only reddish, considering the amount of hit she had endured inside the room. I was expecting some open wound or blood oozing out from it.
Then a tan guy with big belly and empty eyes came out of the room and walked towards her. His head was shaved leaving almost a centimeter strands of black and gray hair. He dragged her across the floor and gave her a punch that landed on her face yet no drop of blood was seen.
The crowd was quiet but you can hear disdain, disgust and revulsion mumbling into the wind but no words was said not only towards the ugly guy but also towards the other men occupying the room. Including me and my father and some few men whose faces I can barely remember.
Then all the men stood up in the room noticing that our zippers were zipped down open, infuriating the loathing that these ladies had towards men. That unzipped metal ignited the guilt inside me, as if I played some part of battering and hurting women (though I never had any incidences of physical brutality against the female race).
All the men were shoved towards the room where the crowd, now all ladies of all ages, preferred. The woman with reddish pearl white skin and the ugly brute was already inside.
Some tried to escape the unbreakable shoji with the belief that they never played a part of such crime. Even my father.
Then I tried to escape but the guards of my conscience in a form of women kept me within the room together with the lady and the brute. As if I needed to accept that punishment inside.
I had no choice but to play the game.
She was already sitting on a bed, still naked, with eyes asking me to sit a foot beside her. Then the man with a stomach of a drunkard slid the remaining small cover of his decency down to the floor. He slapped the girl too many times, hit her in the stomach, tossed around the room from my non-blinking eyes, not believing the kind of brutality existed in such.
He forced her head towards his meat and forced her to give him some pleasure.
And I was there staring directly at the lady’s eyes whose eye contact before never lasted for 2 seconds but now looks through my soul asking me, how dare me to witness her sufferring without doing anything about it. I look up to the guy, stood up and saw his eyes lifeless and dead. His chinky eyes just forbid me to do anything bad as he enjoyed the fellatio being given by the girl.
“Do you have work?”
I heard her say that. Surprised to be asked by such, coming from someone whose mouth was full of that filthy pig’s wood and whose current situation can’t afford to ask such.
“I’m sorry. What did you say again?”
I’m asking you if you have work today..”
“Yes. I have.”
“What are you still doing here? Go.”
Then I woke up with the same question regarding my work bombarded by my mother outside my door.
I took a deep breathe. Remembering the face of that filthy pig and the beaten woman as I answered.
“..Yes. I’m up.”
Stuttering 