They shot him and killed him right then and there. That kind of boy, some would say, what kind of mother had raised him?
This slogan left the most bitter impression on me: Curse the woman who carries an Ossetian in her womb
As we were firing farewell shots for him, we could hear a sound on the other side, someone else was firing with us from Georgia
May God protect everyone from the pain I experienced then. I ran off. In front of the school, a sulfur spring was flowing.
My mother was Ossetian, and they were cursing her, how could you raise Georgian kids, they said. What am I supposed to do?
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