Semua Bab What does the major want?: Bab 11 - Bab 16

The prisoners were forced back into the carriage, and the grueling journey resumed. Lara was in a state of childlike dissociation; the violence she had just witnessed and the guard’s roaring threats had left her trembling. She felt the danger as a looming, nameless shadow, but it wasn’t because of Mark Christo himself. In fact, he didn’t even cross her mind for a moment. She whispered to herself, "What difference does it make? None. Robert was just like this. I won’t feel a thing..."The poor soul had no idea that Robert’s cruelty was nothing compared to the absolute tyranny and ruthless brutality of Mark..Her thoughts drifted back to Suzanne, and once again, tears began to flow uncontrollably. Despite the agonizing pain the memory of Susie brought, it remained her only sanctuary—her only source of safety and shelter in this cold world...Lara began to exhibit signs of mental regression, a sort of psychological withdrawal that bordered on feeblemindedness. She played incessantly with

As Lara walked, she would glance back every now and then at her garment, which had become trampled by anyone and everyone who passed... A female guard grabbed her and led her to the collective bath, and when she reached it, the guards threw scissors at them to cut their hair down to the neck. All the women began looking with fear and trepidation, and Lara clutched her hair in refusal. The female guards shouted at them: "If you do not cut your hair, we will cut your fingers with the scissors, move, one, two, three, fo........." Then the prisoners began cutting their hair. Lara was tearing up as she cut her hair, her long red hair that reached the end of her back,, it was falling lifelessly to the ground, lock after lock, until it reached the end of the neck. After finishing, they began bathing in yellowish water. The floor was full of hair, mud, and the water which was originally a place of filth. They were bathing and Lara, the water was cold, pounding the bone, when Lara poured it ov

The guards, both men and women, began directing the prisoners, their mouths erupting with orders and insults. Lara was among the surging crowds, trying to shield herself from two things: the male guards and Isabella—for the latter was staring at her with eyes that rarely blinked. Despite the thundering of boots striking the ground, the screams of the guards, and the chaotic jostling of bodies—arms pressing here, thighs brushing there, shoulders colliding, and heads ducking—despite everything, Isabella’s gaze remained fixed on her.Lara exploited the density of the crowd to hide, her mind racing with questions: Why are they looking at me? Do they need something from me? Do they have a connection to me? Do they know Robert? Do they mean me harm? These questions and others like them haunted her, and it was only natural; the conditions of prison force one to consider every ill possibility. Moreover, the shock of her daughter’s death had regressed her thinking from maturity to a somewhat c