It was a chilly evening when the inevitable happened. Suddenly, several police officers rushed towards me. Without warning, I was brutally thrown to the ground. The impact on the hard asphalt left me dazed, but I barely had time to register the pain.
“Hands behind your back!” shouted one of the officers. Before I could react, I felt the cold handcuffs closing tightly around my wrists. The pressure was painful and cut into my flesh. I lay helplessly on the floor while the police officers roughly spread my legs.
Then I heard the metallic clink of leg irons. My legs were pulled together roughly and I felt the heavy chains being strapped around my ankles. Every attempt to move increased the pain in my wrists and ankles.
It wasn’t just the physical torment that tortured me. The humiliation of lying so helpless and exposed on the cold floor was almost unbearable. The looks of the bystanders bored into my back and intensified the feeling of shame.
When the policemen finally pulled me to my feet and dragged me to the car, all I could think about was the heavy burden that was now hanging from my feet. Every step was agony. With each jerk of the chains, I became painfully aware that this was the beginning of a new, harsh reality.