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A Mother's Lament

December 20, 2008 |  

(Clearwisdom.net) My son, a Falun Gong Practitioner, has been thrown into jail, and whether he is dead or alive is unknown. I feel anxious every day and I frequently have nightmares. I am already in my seventies. I can only curse the CCP and hope that the laws of heaven will eliminate this evil very soon.

My son has been imprisoned three times. On this last awful day, the whole family was working in the fields. I witnessed with my own eyes how a gang of policemen pounced on my son and handcuffed him while forcing him into a police car. At the same time two men held me back as I struggled, and kept me from resisting their unlawful arrest of my son. I fell to the ground as my heart was broken. I could only watch helplessly as the police car drove away with my child! Since then, I have been worrying both day and night. When my son was arrested, he was wearing only a pair of shorts and was bare on top. He has no clothes to keep him warm and was snatched away without even being able to take along any daily necessities.

In order to find out more details about my son and his whereabouts, I went to all the government offices, large and small, and I experienced the bullying of the CCP's government officials! They deceived me, gave me the brush-off and made things unnecessarily difficult for me. Nonetheless I finally found out the address of the place where my son is being incarcerated. Our entire family, both young and old couldn't wait to travel the long distance to visit my son at the prison. But after much pleading, the police remained unmoved and refused to even let us see him.

My son is incarcerated in that prison. He may still be alive, but we didn't get to see him in person. He may be dead, but we didn't get to see his corpse. Before my son was illegally detained there, I had long heard of the terrible torture methods used in that prison. This is precisely the reason why I can't stop worrying. I have dreamed many times that my son had returned home but when I woke up crying, he was not there. During this period that he is incarcerated, the moment I shut my eyes I immediately see many frightening scenes, including the police removing human organs illegally, tying people up on the death bed or shocking them with electric batons, injecting unknown drugs, the cruel police using all sorts of diabolical torture devices on my son. I often wake up in a fright. Recalling my son's screams of pain in my dream, a mother's heart is broken and bleeding. Once again I dreamed of my son covered with wounds and thin as a stick standing in front of me. In my dream I caress his sunken cheeks and hug him as I cry my heart out. I wake up in the middle of the night now, and cry alone. The long night is unbearable!

My son was arrested on May 28, 2008. This article was written in October, after our visit to the prison was unsuccessful.