Letters from the US

(He seats on something on the pick-up's front seat)

- What the hell's this?
- A... A DVD?...
- Yeah, sure, I know what this is... what for?
- Hum... don't know... really couldn't say...
- C'mon, what's this shit all about?
- I thought that...
- Ya "thought"? Now you do that, huh? Since when, huh?
- It's just that... I was thinking...
- F*** you, ya stupid ass: YOU DON'T THINK. Unless I tell ya to, got it?
- Ok, baby, ok. It's ok. I just...
- WHAT?
- Today's yo...
- Well, will you say that shit once and for all? DO IT, ya lazy b****!
- It's... You just... don't... don't let me... fini... sh... Today's...

(He smacks her face)

- WHAAAAAAAT?

(Has his fist up, ready to punch her right on the cheek)

- An-ni-vers-sa-ry. Yo-yours... Now, come down... ok?
- Oh yeah? But now you've ruined, haven't ya? Now ya gonna taste a bit of my fists, ya cow. Sometime, you'll learn anything useful. Took ya too long, MISSED MY BUUUS!
- (...)
- Then ya can call ya friends from the squad, huh? You'll run to them again, huh? They'll come here... Nosy nosy, bossy bossy, picky picky, HUH?

(He takes her off the car, hangs her by her clothes, smacks her over and over against the vehicle, bites her hands violently, his fist comes and goes as fast as he can, starts to get colored by the blood that runs from her face, all over her dress, all over the car, all over the ground, all over the grass. She faints. Falls down, while he keeps on spanking on and on and on. Neighbours come screaming, cross the fence, jump over it, those who try'n hold him back are repelled as soon as they get near, people keep on screaming, only way to stop him is by some kind of touchdown, his legs together, to make him fall. He falls only when the police comes, forced by the guns that face him, people all over the place with bruises and cuts, women and children crying. No one remembers the woman lying down. As they approach her little tiny body, they finally get it: it’s too late for her.)

Too late for her. Too late for her...

Violators won't need any motive... at all.
Everything counts.

How many more women's lives are needed?
How many times more will we be too late?
How many people will still shut up?
How...?

Every six seconds,
a woman is rapped,
suffers violence,
forgets she has rights.

How many more...?
Still you shut up...
For how long?

(...)

Silence helps crime!