(Published in the Daily Reporter on 4/15/2009)
I renegade ... God even
Víctor M. Barranco C.
Every hour the same pain, same nausea, the same disgust ... the same rot. Every second the same betrayal, and his old nightmare for her God-somehow absent. Always the same disguise, the same feeling of disgust, the eternal question, the same ordeal piercing your day, your week, your night, your time around ... that lacerate their unpredictable daily nightmares. Each time this unpleasant sensation in the spirit, the gap in the responses, the war all nesting on your pillow. That whirlwind stir in his mind every day life, misery, shame, fear, revenge ... that things move outside but prefers never cease to be his at all. With every second the same thirst, the same hunger, the go slow and secret shame, that feeling of slowly boiling liquid sometimes gushing through his veins, the rhythmic movement of his story which is swinging torture chamber memories. The torment that burden, the futile struggle between dignity and shame, the painful jolt that shakes, that piece of your body where they taught all miseries. That happened to you and that continues to hurt after seven years. A violent attack. No violation just your body but your integrity. The humiliation of the flesh, mind, filling all spaces without mercy or pause. And he, the author of his misfortunes, who brewed their vices in your body ... free, unpunished. Son of a person of power, has been protected even though it identified. Who knows where you live. Has gone home. In the midst of the despair of that night of sewers and sewage, could record the license plate and gave them to justice at all. I have seen, and felt the mockery of the proceedings in a public place without shame or mercy. Thought take justice into their own hands, but an inner voice that always stops them. No room for love but for fear. In sex, there is a scar without closing it impossible for any approach ... any attempt to mate. She lives alone. Without feeling the satisfaction of being a woman. Workpiece, has turned in his daily tasks all their troubles. He thinks that if justice is not done, and at this point that is a rather remote possibility, it can not recover your life. Or recovered as a person. That night he violated her body, her will, her most intimate ... shame it ended. Rabies solitary lives today and in the midst of those tears that he feels is the only thing that really belongs, continue to die what is left of life ... daily.
-Young, rather shy, I dealt with in a fast-food sales. He greets me, it says reader of this space, and withdraws. Just when I leave I left a piece of paper an e-mail, a phone number and asked me to talk. Invite her to my office and there after three or four games tells me his dream.
- I can hardly BA, tell him what happened to me. I have many weeks trying to make contact with you. I just was not going to do when the months passed, the space does not reappear. When I read that back, I made the purpose of telling you my tragedy. And to see the virgin put me in front of me when least expected. But bear with me. Come living in hell. And while more than 7 years of this, I live every night as if repeated.
- Quiet, I say, take your time ... if not today, it will be another chance.
- No, this is the third time we met and I no longer keep turning
- Well, tell me then
- I went out of classes at the University as at 10 at night, and was Lara Avenue waiting for a route Cabudare take me to where I live. I walked a little farther from the stop to see if I could go first to those who waited on her. Whenever you're at the stop, do not miss these gallants they stop, compliments and even offer to our homes or take a walk. You do not listen to them, and go. That night I was approached by a golden chariot, but asking an address. Where is the CC. El Paseo? ... I set him down many more lights should turn left. The guy got out, showed me a badge and told me. "You must be affectionately called the catira" ... "Give me your card." No, I said, I am confused. I'm not even catira, I just did a Mechita. At that time he drew a pistol and forced me to get in the car ... and I refused, they hit me and pushed me stunned and almost charged I got into the car. It took me via Agua Viva. Driving with one hand and the other pointing at me and hit me in the head with the gun. Forced me to stay with her head down, without looking up. We reached a sort of farm alone or abandoned. They got off the car with me on the side where I was. He gave me a push that fell on the ground ... were pounced on me and tied her hands with a cord carried.
- You What were you doing?
- nothing but mourn and try to defend myself. At one point removed his pants and asked me to go down the mine. I did not want, then hit me in the face and told me ... "go dog, by hook or by crook ... you choose. " I refused and asked him crying Please leave me, I did not denounce him. Then I knelt down by force, he stepped inside and asked me to do oral sex ... which, by the way, I never had. In the midst of such blow to the head, opened my mouth and there quenched all their evil instincts. I thought it would come up there ... but no. He said: "Get ready the party is just beginning." I left there with their hands tied and went to turn off the car ... then I memorized the license plate. When he returned, I said ... if I do something else I'm going to complain, I know by heart the plate in your car. Better not, degree. A man that went all the demons in the body. I dropped my head kicked in by the lower body. I screamed obscenities. Insulted me. He ripped off my clothes. It broke my blouse, bra. I broke the closure of the pants. He gave me a kick that made me lose consciousness momentarily. When I woke up it was half over, panting. I had unleashed. I tried to get rid of him but could not. I think he was drugged and also angry. I was in hell. I do not know how often quenched his aberration in each body part that struck him. I did not care nothing ... just wanted to die. It was painful physically and morally. I said bitch, bitch. What was going through that mind filthy dirty mouth and that the devil gave him and fed his perversion. Not many hours passed. I huddled on the floor, did not stop mourn. He, after all, and sorry I was approached and told me .... "Quiet, not crying. All over. Dress'll take you someplace where you can take a taxi to your home. I'm not like, is that sometimes the devil takes hold of me and I do these things without realizing it. " I did not believe him. I thought that since he knew that he had fixed in my memory the number of registration, was looking for extenuating circumstances. I could, I half dressed ... I rode in the car crying. I asked several times: "are you going to complain?". I did not answer. Until I felt a manotón in the face and again I cry ... "Look bitch, do not ever, for that day if you die for real!". He stopped just outside the entrance of Yacural. That forced me to get off. I stopped a taxi, after many to see the state I was, did not want to take. It was from a Teacher night was helped by little run. When he saw me half naked and bleeding were offered to take me to the hospital or the police ... where I wanted. I asked him to take me home from a cousin, if I looked like walking mom would give him a heart attack. It was. Took me to the premium.
- denounced it later? What did you do?
- bathing .... I was many hours under the shower. I felt disgusting. Dirty. Smeared with all the misery and perversion of that animal. Just came out, I wrote of the number plate ... well, if you do not create, not the complete record. I had such gaps. A sort of jumble in my brain would not let me clearly. I just wanted to mourn and a bath. As if to wash the filth that I had done.
- Did you go to the police?
- Yes, a friend of my cousin took me. And that made me relive the whole ordeal. I think these cases should have qualified personnel. A psychologist. Sometimes you do more damage to one with the questions and some sarcasm in them, which the rapist. What happened to the prosecution and there have been about seven years sleeping in a drawer.
- Nobody did anything?
- Some colleagues began to investigate, and managed to discover that this animal had done some similar things in Santa Elena. Sometimes posing as official, as other uninformed tourist. We were tying ropes, until we come to your location. We there to the police .... but nothing happened. The guy, apparently, is the son of a person with influence, to the point, someone told my cousin's boyfriend: Forget that this case does not come out. That dude is protected.
- And then what did?
- is there, graduate, when you get the crazy one. Caused me to wait. And make it look as much damage as he did to me. But an inner voice stopped me. It's more once I saw him in a skirt in El Roble ... and the world came over me. I was approaching him, but when he realized it was me, mounted on a Jeep loaded and left.
- What your parents say?
- My mom who is with whom I live, has cried with me for 7 years. She had seen me give up everything, it gives me encouragement. She asks me to leave that in God's hands, to redo my life, to turn the page.
- Did you have?
- No. I still do not let no man come near me too. I do not accept anyone touch me. There is no room in me for love. Sex makes me sick. There is no possibility of a relationship. I'm scarred for life. There is a wound that never heals me. Bleeding daily. Maybe if justice had been done without it would not have repaired the damage, would surely life from another angle. He reneged on love, even I have done at some point in God. I can not reach their thirties, and I'm dead. I dropped out of school because I can not concentrate. Mom helped with the sewing at home, until my mind is occupied by the ghosts of the night. I do not know that I have done more damage ... the brutal rape that night. Or know that in this country, the son of a goat heavy ... is a badge of gross impunity.
Her story shook me to the point of rage. In the midst of that impotence giving injustice, there is no apparent exit in his nightmare. It is the pain, the scar that bleeds, the horrible impression of being trampled, worn, violated. A verbena of anguish, a festival of fear, the only regular live tremor. The replacement of the road by a shadow, a pain that intersection where life fucking asked for a truce to sadness. In his eyes there is a permanent goodbye, the doubt about the outcome, the gap where the vertigo makes niche ... the same hospital, no cure for his wounds. The old spell of hope. The fantasy of madness. The loving hands goodbye without smiles. She now lives in despair, deceit, betrayal ... maybe the summary of life itself, paying tribute to the cruelest of nights. That chill, this perverse passion, blindness unfortunate that the worst worshiping of existence. At its heart the same gasp, the old complaint, and reiterated the familiar hum ... the same sting that hurts, when hope dies in the place of love. In it, and no apparent possibility of return, there are now only end items, burnt ... where to live, it is only necessary to have a beginning. Some hope. A dream. Ever, after having lived his own death ... I have to die, what's left of life.
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