二零零二年十月二十七日上午九点，手铐刚打开，三大队教导员就领着俩个犯人走进牢房，强行把我拉进“心理咨询室”。
酷刑房里门窗紧闭，窗户玻璃全被旧报纸糊住，有一张双层铁床（供打手们睡觉），一副手铐吊在铁床的床把上。
四个打手一见那教导员进来，马上拿椅子给她坐，直挺挺站在她两旁待命。
“唐乙文，刚才你不是想找我吗？什么事啊？”那教导员阴阳怪气的问我。
“你身为执法人员，为什么却用酷刑折磨我们大法弟子？”
“我在党校学习的时候，那里的老师对我们说：‘我们共产党打下这个江山不容易。为了保住江山，可以不择手段！’”
说完她给打手们丢了一个眼色，一个打手会意的给她点点头，然后她走出酷刑房。
打手们把门一关，马上把我按坐在冰冷的地板上，用粗布绳把我的双手双腿紧紧捆绑住。
她们把一张破棉絮铺在我身体周围，说是为了防止我受不了酷刑折磨时把头撞向水泥地板自杀用的。“让你死对你太好了！我们不让你死，让你受折磨！”一个打手说。
她们掐住我的脖子，把我的头死命往绑住的双腿上压。
过去我不太明白为什么那么多中国人在“文革” 遭到中共迫害时，会以那么可怕的方式（比如上吊）结束自己的生命。
自己亲身经历了三天酷刑后，我完全明白了。
其中俩个打手是槎头女子劳教所的犯人。她们吸毒、贩毒十几年，是戒毒所和劳教所常客。俩人非常邪恶、凶残，所以一进劳教所就被看守放到三大队专门折磨大法弟子。很多被关押者都怕她们。她们的样子完全像男人。
另外俩个打手，据劳教所所长第二天来酷刑房时说，是劳教所从北京请来的“对付法轮功的专家”。
酷刑的剧痛使我大汗淋漓、严重脱水。当我请求她们给些水喝时，她们拿出一瓶浓浓的辣椒水，撬开我的嘴，把辣椒水强行灌入我的喉咙。
我的喉咙和胃顿时像烧着一样痛苦。
打手们和三大队的俩个队长坐在我旁边，吃着零食，喝着汽水，大声说笑，开心的看着我受苦。
晚上打手们轮流睡觉，但她们一秒钟都不许我合眼，“你要敢合眼就灌你喝更多辣椒水！抹你眼睛上！”
她们不许我上厕所, 更别提洗澡。我不停的流汗，全身湿透（那时是冬天），屋里充满汗味。
她们于是把门窗大打开。
酷刑房旁边是洗手间。看守们经过酷刑房去洗手间时，都看到我被绑着坐在地上受刑。
她们全都漠然走过。
为了防止我出声，打手们用厚胶条把我的嘴巴层层封起来，使我呼吸困难的几乎窒息。
酷刑的第二天，劳教所所长提着一大袋零食来酷刑房犒劳打手们。
后来打手们一度给我松绑，命令我马上站起来。
我全身剧痛、僵硬的一点动弹不得，哪里站的起来？！
打手们就大骂我，对我拳打脚踢，用脚狠命踩我剧痛的双腿。然后把我强拉起来，狠狠踢我腿脚受伤最严重的地方。
过一些时间后，她们再次把我按原样捆绑起来。
这时我明白了她们为什么一度给我松绑：松绑后再捆会更加痛的要命。
酷刑的第三天，十月三十日中午，已被折磨的神志昏迷的我被抬出酷刑房。
这三天酷刑的痛苦，非语言所能描述。
它使我更深的体会到，人若没有信仰和道德会变的多么邪恶；这世界多么需要真、善、忍；我们自己善良还不够，还要洪扬大法使更多人变善良，这世界才可能真正美好、安宁。（待续）
(英文对照)
At 9:00p.m, 27th, the Third Brigade chief came into the cell, uncuffed me, and had two watching-inmates drag me into the “Room for Psychological Consultation”.
The room’s door and windows were shut, and the windowpanes were all covered up with old newspapers. In the room there was a double-deck bunk, a pair of handcuffs hanging on the iron bar of the bunk.
Seeing the Third Brigade chief stepping in, the four torturers in the room hurriedly brought her a chair and stood straight beside her on standby.
“Said you wanted to see me? What’s the business?” the chief asked me in a cynical tone.
“As a lawperson, why do you torture Dafa practitioners?” I asked her.
“When I studied in the Party School, the teachers there taught us, “It was not easy for us CCP to grab the power of this country; in order to uphold the power, we can do whatever it takes!”
Upon saying that, the chief cast the torturers a glance. One of them gave her a knowing nod in response. With that she left the room.
The tortures instantly shut the door, held me down on the floor, and bound up my arms and legs with a rope.
They placed a shabby quilt around me, saying it was for preventing me from striking my head against the floor to commit suicide when I couldn’t endure the pain. “Letting you die is too kind to you! We won’t let you die! We’ll torture you! Make you suffer!”
They brutally clutched my neck and struck my head against my bound-up legs.
Before, I couldn’t understand why so many Chinese people had taken their lives in various horrible ways (such as hanging themselves), when they were tortured by the CCP during the Cultural Revolution.
After experiencing the three days of torture personally, I came to fully understand.
Two of the torturers were Chatou inmates, who had taken and trafficked in drugs for over ten years, and were regular inmates of Chatou. They were evil and brutal, thereby were put in the Third Brigade the second they got to Chatou. Many inmates were scared of them. They looked utterly like men.
The other two torturers were, according to what the Chatou chief said when she came to the torture room the following day, “experts in dealing with Falun Gong, whom Chatou invited along from Beijing.”
The intense pain of the torture made me sweat heavily and dehydrate badly.
When I asked them to give me some water to drink, the torturers took out a bottle of thick chilli sauce, pried open my mouth and forced the sauce into my throat.
My throat and stomach instantly felt like they were on fire.
The torturers and two Third Brigade captains sat beside me chatting and laughing over snacks and sodas, delightfully watching me suffering.
When midnight came, the torturers took turns going to bed, but they didn’t let me close my eyes even for a second. “You dare close your eyes, we’re going to feed you more chilli sauce! Smear it on your eyes!”
They didn’t let me go to the toilet, let alone bath. I kept sweating and became sweat-soaked (It was winter then). The room smelled of sweat.
They opened up the door and windows.
Next door was the guards’ bathroom. As they walked to the bathroom via the torture room, the guards could all see me sitting on the floor, bound up, being tortured.
They all walked by indifferently.
In order to prevent me from voicing, the torturers wrapped layers of thick tape around my mouth, making my breathing so difficult I was nearly suffocated.
On the next day of the torture, the Chatou chief came to the room with a big bag of goodies for rewarding the torturers.
After she left, the torturers untied me and told me to stand up instantly.
I was stiff and aching badly all over. How could I possibly stand up?!
Then the torturers swore at me, beat me up, trod on my injured legs, brutally dragged me up from the floor, and kicked me in the part of the legs that had been injured most badly.
A while later, they rebound me up in the same way.
At the moment it dawned on me why they untied me: Once being untied, the feet and legs would hurt even more badly when getting rebound.
At noon of October 30, the third day of the torture, I was carried out of the torture room when I had been tortured to unconsciousness.
The pain of the three days’ torture could not be described in words.
It made me appreciate more profoundly: How evil one could become without a righteous faith and morality; how much the world needed Truth-Compassion-Tolerance; it was not enough that only we became kindhearted, we must spread Dafa and have more people become kindhearted, only then could the world become truly wonderful, safe, and peaceful.
(http://www.dajiyuan.com)
