Old notes from Bosnia 2000

When I lived and worked in Bosnia a lot of stories were told to me, many times I met the people and children. This Rottweiler "mother" I met and I can still feel the pain echoing in my heart. I want to share my memories with you.

He abused his wife. She was frustrated, had anxiety, and yelled a lot. To make her silent, he smacked with his fist on her nose and broke it.
He loved to maltreat her. The power and satisfaction he felt afterwards was better than an orgasm. Actually, it felt the same as after having one.

The children saw their parents abuse each other, and out of fear they stopped talking in their own home, which ought to be a sanctuary for them.
The kids stayed out on the streets the whole day so they didn’t have to witness the abuse back home, or listen to the screams and see the blood. The boys hated both their parents; they already hated the whole world by the age of eleven and twelve.

They saw a deserted van with the backdoors open and hurried over to it and saw four puppies lying inside sleeping. They closed the doors and set the van on fire.
The boys laughed while the puppies’ mother ran around the van, howling with grief from her heart and soul. There was nothing she could do, but a mother’s instinct was as enormous as any feeling souls.
Her grief made her stop eating and she never left the burned down van.
She starved herself to death.