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A mother's confession
Written by Матери Беслана   
Суббота, 02 Сентябрь 2006

Beslan Mothers

Two years ago terrorism once again showed its beastly grin, as did the government inflexibility in its fight with it. Some cynically and without pity shot people in the back, others in the heart. We became hostages not only of the terrorists, but of an impenetrable circle of lies, corruption, and unscrupulousness.

Two years ago there was an unreal sensation, because a person's consciousness cannot come to grips with the horror of September, 2004. Perhaps it is a parallel world, when your consciousness in this life finds itself in such an unfamiliar condition — when you understand that you are helpless and insignificant, that you are powerless before the barbarism that once again is victorious in bringing civilization down to a primitive level.
What does it mean to be strong in such a situation? To accept all of it with fatal submission and then to try to live on as before? Or, upon viewing our awful reality, to try and change it? Who knows which course is correct?
What does my sick, tired, maternal heart feel two years after terrible tragedy? A void, and the senselessness of the universe. Anger and hatred towards the subhumans who deprived me of ever loving myself again, because I could not save my child.

They left me without a homeland, because I cannot love a land where it is so easy to kill my child and hundreds of other children.

They left me without a people, because I reproach it for its weakness and inability to protect and save hundreds of its most beautiful representatives.

They left me without faith, because after experiencing that horror it is impossible to believe in a bright future.

They left me without hope, because it simply died with my child.

They left me without love, because they burned my soul.

They left me a life, for which I have no use.
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