28 January 1939, 7.00p.m
The Japanese soldiers tortured me. The burning pain on my skin, the strokes of torture. They whacked me with a whip, again and again. They smirked in satisfaction and mocked me. Even though I was angry, but I was too weak and vulnerable to do anything. After those horrible minutes, they threw me back into the cold and dark room.
I was lonely, I wanted to have someone to talk to. I missed my wife and children dearly. The loneliness felt like despair. The room was so damp that it stinks. The horrible odour filled the room, or what I call, hell. I was locked up for 28 days, surviving with only porridge and dirty water. I was incredibly weak, I felt that I am fortunate to survive till this day. The war was not ending, I will not be free.
All I could do was pray...
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