The violence that took a life

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There are moments that one never likes to remember. I had put my box aside, as I am currently going through a deep depressive crisis, which has led me to put aside many things and reevaluate many aspects of my life... it was then that I found the photo that accompanies this chapter and that I have had such a hard time writing.

I have always had few friends, in fact, I don't think that until I met Rosa Maria I ever had a real friend, at least not one that I could see as such. But at one point there was Adriana.... we were schoolmates and it's funny how things work, because she went to high school when I was in third grade and her classroom was next to mine, so it was frequent that we would pass each other in the patio or in the computer room, by the way, that room was a plywood room with 10 low quality computers, which were used to "teach" us how to use Corel Draw and I don't remember which program to create an animation with buttons to click on.

In addition to this school companionship, we also traveled the same way back, because like me, she was quite lonely, at least it seemed that way to me. So on one occasion, I don't remember who, started the conversation that led us to accompany each other on the route every day, almost like a ritual. The friendship grew and at some point when I left school and changed to another one (in 4th grade) we drifted apart, until she was 19 years old (I was 22) and we started talking again. From one moment to another, I noticed a radical change in Adriana, from being the girl at home, very quiet and almost religious, she went to hang out with guys on motorcycles, who shot lisuras in bulk without worrying and had thuggish attitudes.

For a while, I thought about leaving, but something told me that things were not going well and it wasn't until Adriana's "lover" threatened one of our friends in common, that my alarm went off and I decided to leave (yes, just like that, the guy challenged the girl in question to a fight, because she "dared" to invite Adriana to go out with all her high school class), the guy challenged the girl in question to fight, because she "dared" to invite Adriana to go out with all her school class) we distanced ourselves for about 4 or 5 months, until I wrote her through facebook to invite her to a theater festival to be held at the UNI. We met and went, everything was fine until then... but when we were going back to her house to accompany her back, calls started coming to her cell phone and her face changed completely.... "It's my boyfriend" was the only thing she told me. Then I became suspicious... when we arrived at the house, the guy was sitting on the sidewalk, with his motorcycle on the side and hitting his fist with his palm. Adriana had told him that she was going out with her brother (she made a habit of saying that I was her older brother). The guy was no more than 5'7" (at that time I was already 5'8" and I was training constantly so my physical condition was intimidating, although I was not a mass of muscles) I guess he did not have the courage to do anything to Adriana in front of me, because he seemed to hold back when he had a stranger who outweighed him in size, weight and apparently in strength in front of him. I said goodbye to Adriana after an hour, because I didn't trust the guy and went home. What would not be my surprise, when Adriana told me that she was going to live with her lover. I certainly didn't agree, but after all, except to give my opinion, who was I to interfere?

That was the last I heard from Adriana for a few months... until I got a call from her asking me to come to her house for her birthday. She told me she had a big surprise for me. I accepted the invitation and even though my economy was not going very well at that time, I bought her a small gift and went to see her... then I didn't notice anything strange, until she hugged me with much affection and placed my hand on her belly... then she told me "you are going to be an uncle"... I froze as a first reaction and then having recovered my sanity, I congratulated her and I was very excited about the idea. But something didn't add up... Adriana was much thinner and considering that during the conversation she told me she was 4 months pregnant, she didn't look pregnant at all, as if she was hiding her bulging belly.

By that time, I had already had a run-in with her boyfriend, since I had photos with Adriana in my social networks, I had tagged her and he in the form of comments angrily claimed me "why I was dating his girlfriend" "that he was going to teach me to respect" among so many other threats. A week later, the lover blocked my way as I was leaving the university and "warned" me not to bother Adriana, taking out of his waistband a revolver that he raked in my face, making his threat very clear and emphasizing that he was from "Los Nole" from Callao (a criminal gang from the first port of my country) I refrained from telling Adriana all this because taking into account her condition, I did not want to affect the pregnancy in any way. A few weeks went by in which I noticed Adriana nervous when I talked to her on the phone... until she called me telling me that she had left her boyfriend, that he was at a friend's house and that I should please come to see her. The urgent tone of her voice worried me, so having already returned from Venezuela and hiding the scars on my arms. At first I got lost getting there because I didn't know the house of the friend in question. When I arrived, a young blonde with green eyes looked at me through the fourth floor window (no elevator for my misfortune) almost with fear... another alarm signal, then she let me pass and when I arrived at the apartment, she greeted me cordially, inviting me in. There on the sofa, Adriana was sitting, her belly had grown almost like a miracle, she was already 5 months and days pregnant and it really showed. But what really caught my attention was Adriana's swollen and purple eye, as well as the bruises on her arms.

It wasn't hard at all to guess what had happened and she told me the whole story. She asked me to stay that afternoon because she was going to tell her mother what had happened and indirectly I acted as a mediator, as her mother reproached her for having gone with the boyfriend and so on... yes... I bought an argument that was not mine, but I just wanted to protect Adriana. Months passed and Adriana stayed at her friend's house, I became more involved with the pregnancy and acted as a deterrent as the crush was trying to track her down and almost 2 months later, he found where she was staying, so he would drive by on his motorcycle several times a day and yell her name demanding that she come down and go back with him. He even texted me to confirm if she was pregnant, unsurprisingly, I did not respond to any messages and blocked all possible contact with him. Even at the baby shower, I was on almost paranoid alert, as it was held in a club with huge windows, where it was easy to be seen, so I was worried that the guy would show up there.

Shortly after, the baby was born and I left my work to go by cab to the clinic, arriving just at the moment of delivery. I was one of the first to hold the baby in my arms and everything was happiness and peace at that moment (you can tell by my expression in the photo that I was very excited)

However, the stories are not as sweet as they should be... and despite now being a mother and having a baby to answer for, plus a history of violence of the type... Adriana decided to resume the relationship with him a few months later.... I could not believe it, literally the few friends who knew about the pregnancy and were present, we had put our lives and our physical integrity at risk... for nothing... I recognize that it sounds very selfish what I say, but it is what I thought and I let Adriana know my disagreement, telling her that I only wished her the best and that I hoped she would not regret it.

Six months went by and we didn't hear anything from Adriana, it was as if the earth had swallowed her... she left the university, stopped working, disappeared from networks and her cell phone was disconnected, leaving as a message "the number you have called doesn't exist"... then I received that damn news... Adriana had committed suicide

I was shocked to hear Rosario (a mutual friend of both of us) tell me in tears. I asked her about the baby and she told me that Adriana's mom had managed to get him back. I let myself fall into my armchair and could not get the tears to cry for my friend... I went to the wake which was with the closed casket and I felt very frustrated because the "lover" was not there.... It wasn't until I moved some contacts, that I managed to get the necropsy report and my blood boiled at the same time that the anger took shape inside me. Adriana had traces of multiple blows and 2 fractured ribs, plus 2 others in recovery. She had received multiple blows to the head, and she also had a hematoma in her left eye (the same one I had seen swollen before). On her body there were traces of antidepressant medication (when I consulted a specialist friend, he told me that these specific medications were used in cases of extreme anxiety). She had multiple cuts on her wrists, some of them already healed, while the cuts that had taken her life had the specific purpose of killing her, as they had pierced her arms almost up to her forearm. Adriana's lips were burst and swollen due to the blows she had received...

I could not continue reading... I accompanied Adriana's mother to pick up her daughter's things from the guy's house and he again tried to intimidate me, only this time he found that I was protecting Adriana's mother, while he was very cool. The investigations pointed him out as guilty of domestic violence, because his fingerprints and the testimonies of all of us, attested to the violence that Adriana had lived through, but he was never given a conviction. The guy left the country and soon after I read in the news that he had been killed in a gang fight in Quito... I guess Adriana got justice.

At this moment, I can only imagine Adriana's endless months of horror and suffering, I truly believe that I failed her as a friend by not intervening sooner. Maybe if I had done more than just keep what I knew to myself, she would still be alive... maybe her child would not have been orphaned... maybe she would never have gone through all the hell she went through. I guess that's one more guilt I'll continue to carry and will never quite atone for. 

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