There are three sexes in Naples: men, women and us, the castrati. Music lovers take us for angels with seductive voices, gods, musicians, while for the rest of the world, castrati are just big, disgusting capons to tease. At school, normal students call us "one-steppers", but the truth is that I'm just an ordinary boy who likes to sing and has no balls. I am not an emasculated bird hanging on the butcher's hook, nor a carnival fool. Who cares if my face and chest are hairless or if my limbs are too long? But sometimes all the smirks and furtive glances make my hands shake, and I wish I had every piece of my body back. I don't even remember what the testicles feel like anymore, when I pee or wash and touch the scar tissue, they feel like a natural part of my body; the memory of the operation, on the other hand, still haunts me today. I was ten years old when four men took off my tattered clothes and put me in a bath of steaming milk to soften my genitals; the heat slowed my galloping heart rate and I almost fell asleep when they suddenly picked me up and strapped me to a tilted table with my head down. I squirmed and begged them to release me, but they just ignored me and pulled the straps tight around my ankles and wrists. Then the curved knife arrived. I let out a primal scream and passed out. When I woke up, I was in the infirmary of my music school with two other children and the pungent smell of herbs and blood; It took me fifteen days to look under these brownish and stained bandages. I wondered if, in order to keep my high voice, I had destroyed my entire existence. My school, the Pietà dei Turchini conservatory, is also my home. In the past, this kind of institution brought together foundlings who earned money for their lo...... middle of paper ......iates through my body. I don't answer. “Answer my question, Leonardo Ponti. » I shake my head. Maestro Spina stiffly leaves the room and returns with a whip in his hand. “Cursed children, bent over! he orders, whipping our butts. “A week in prison for both of you. » “I’m going to talk to my father about this injustice,” Cesare stammers. “Fighting is against our rules,” retorts the professor. opera,” I objected. “Oh, are you talking now?” growls Maestro Spina. “Next time, think twice before doing something stupid. » “Maestro, Cesare provoked me,” I said. “Do you want to stay in the dungeon for two weeks?” » “No, but…” I said meekly. "Out of my "I want to say something else to defend myself, but this time the words are useless. I take a quick glance at Cesare before heading towards the prison. A punch to the stomach is less painful.