The dogs barked from hunger, outside, cold and probably in pain from all the abuse they too endured. Sometimes I think they suffered more than that girl and her sister. All she could do was watch all the violence to those poor dogs because she knew she was next. They got yelled at for living, breathing, and being dogs, that's what they do, but of course in this household even breathing wrong was enough reason to get beaten. The girl remembered all the sounds those poor dogs made every hit they took, their eyes screaming for help, but she couldn't help, every time she tried they got it worse, even her, so for the least damage and pain caused to their bodies the better. That's the power of silence. A power I don't wish anyone to have because you deserve to speak and ask for help when needed and not get silenced even by your own mother. Every time she saw that dent on the car in which the evil man bashed that poor angel's head she closed her eyes tight holding her breath so all the bad memories would disappear. The poor babies, 3 dogs, and angels, never did anything wrong but they still get beaten with wooden poles, metal pipes, and punches in the face daily. They whine for help. I thought one day the evil man could kill my poor baby, two of them died, and the third one, the youngest one still living with him I suppose. When we left the house two years ago I cried every day for months because now I couldn’t protect him and last week I cried again because I saw what my sibling Vicky Chiquita uploaded on her WhatsApp story, the evil man had new pets, I can't bare think what they go through every day now. I hate to feel hopeless.