Page 118 of Depths of Destruction
Animals howl and screech. Bugs bite my flesh. The cold of the night air sets in my bones.
Tethered to the tree, I can't move, except for the involuntary trembling of my body when I'm shocked again for fun.
Pain, tears, and screams consume me. Exhaustion sets in, but there is no escape from any of it.
When the sun finally rises the next morning, there's a moaning next to me. One of the men is alive.
He struggles to talk but prays for God to take him away.
Santiago's men hear him. They mock him then begin whipping him again, and it starts all over.
Three different times I'm shocked until a man yells, "Out of prongs."
The man next to me continues to be beaten, and I don't know how long it goes on, but sometime later in the morning, he finally dies.
I've accepted my fate that this is it. That Santiago is going to kill me, and he only told me he wouldn't the day prior to add to my torture.
But then he suddenly comes to the tree and releases the rope.
I collapse to the ground, and he kicks my ass with his boot and tells me to get up. There is nothing left in me. My limbs are as strong as cooked spaghetti.
He spits on me, calls me a whore, and commands one of his men to pick me up and lock me back up.
I'm dragged up, pushed back into the truck, and I fall to the ground. It's dark. I can't see anything. It takes every bit of energy I have, but I crawl to the corner.
A man's voice says my name, and my body stiffens.
They are in here, too. I'm going to get hurt again.
No. Fight back before they restrain you again.
But I can't see.
The deep voice keeps saying my name. He asks me where I am.
He can't see me, either.
Maybe I have a chance.
I cower closer to the corner; every inch of my body trembles and I can't breathe. No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to get enough air. My heart stutters and a sharp pain begins to stab it. And every word that comes out of the man's mouth creates a new panic within me. I debate how to escape him, but the darkness and exhaustion I'm already feeling don't allow my brain to process any type of plan.
I don't know how much more I can take.
Strong arms reach around me, and I hit back as hard as I can, but it's useless. He restrains me with his limbs and tightens his grip so I can't move.
I'm screaming. I can't stop. He won't let me go.
"Shh. Baby, it's okay. I got you. Shh," he says over and over.
A long time passes before my body relaxes, and I sink into his arms.
He keeps asking me questions, but nothing registers. More time passes, and he begins to feel safe.
It's Andre. He has me.
New tears pour down my cheeks.
Andre hums my favorite song my mom used to sing to Emilia and me. He holds me tight and I can't feel anything but his arms and the electric buzz running through my spine.
