Will you marry me?

What would you chose.
A moment of glory with painful consequences?
Or silence sufferment with eventual salvation?

I watched a show on Channel i yesterday which relayed many issues as such. I forgot the title.

I convinced Reezo to fire the play up. It was our only chance to get back at the bastards. The bastards who abuse our minds. The bastards who look upon us as nothing more than dirt. The bastards who rape our bodies and steal our innocence. The bastards who made me a man sooner than I was supposed to be. The bastards. Reezo agreed.

The guards were taken aback. They thought we were gonna let them win as usual, in front of the men who gave them money to feed and clothe us. How wrong could they be? For that ninety minutes, we were the men they forced us to become. We played like a team. We brought the son of a bitches down over and over and over again. For once, in the sweet ninety minutes, they were the ones helpless against us. For that ninety minutes. We were free.

We won. Breathin in the glory, we all felt that we all did the right thing at last. We smelt the gratifying scent of honour within hell.

"Good game, sir."

A game, it wasn't.

The beatings were unbearable, but nothing compared to rotting in the confinement cell. With no light. No food. No laughter. No hope. You thought you've seen the worse. But no, wait till you hear this.

They killed Reezo.