On the day of the third party, I cried with joy. My crazy husband finally had someone to take over.

I finally divorced my ex-husband.

His current wife struts around in front of me, as if she's achieved some grand victory.

I can only feel pity for her.

Because she doesn't yet realize that she'll soon be bruised and battered.

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The violent struggle stirred up dust and sweat, blurring my vision.

Tears mingled with snot ran down my face:

"Please, don't, I'm begging you!"

My school uniform was torn to shreds.

Two boys pinned my arms, while two more held my legs.

A blond guy leaned over me, his foul breath hitting my cheek.