Revengeance

Monday, August 5th, 6:15 pm

The sun is still holding in by the time I make it off the freeway and onto the streets where children are playing outside. I slowly pulled to a stop along the curb. Memories flood. I can tell my anxiety is raging to break free. A little girl is sitting in the driveway drawing her version of Michelangelo with chalk. My eyes drift to the wrap around porch and further up to the beautiful wooden door. The window to my past opens. My chest constricts.

"This is what happens when you double cross the Osorio familia. Vengarse de algn por algo." He slides the knife along mommy's leg. Closing my eyes, I can vision her face: wide eyes, chest heaving, and panic of what's he's going to do next. "Abre tus ojos niña," he yelled, but I couldn't open my eyes. As much he punished me for not keeping my eyes open. I couldn't watch. Mario, stop it now!" Daddy begged. Opening my eyes praying he'll have mercy on mommy, I witness his sneered smile as he slowly slid the knife into mommy's leg."

"No!" I cried through the gag. Mommy's screams echoing through the house. Cam sitting off to my side gagged and tied as well, his eyes fill with rage and sadness. I pull on the rope ignoring the pain, anything to distract me from comprehending this nightmare.

"¿Vas a escuchar?" His eyes return to the knife covered in a thick red mucus. I nod my head yes, I'll listen. Only I can't talk. How can I get my point across if I can't speak? Fingers work vigorously on the binds keeping me captivated. It's useless. Less than useless. If only I could get them free, I don't know...maybe do something. "Good, because if you don't..." he trailed off as mommy screams more, "I'll have to do more damage."

"You sick son of a bitch! I swear, Osorio, I'm going to kill you." Daddy booms. Mario leans back laughing while mommy's cries send blood pounding to my ears. He stabbed her again. I need to save her. Save everyone here. Daddy's eyes cut to me and I can't read if his expression is one of begging or sorrow. My hands continue to work unsuccessfully. "Please let them go. It's me you want. Let them go and you can do everything you want to me."

"Why would I not share the fun with your family? After all, isn't that what you did for me? You intercepted my family's work. My brothers were killed. I don't take kindly to those who hurt my family."

"Then you understand. Please let my family go."

Osorio throws his head awkwardly in a fit of fake laughter. Shaking his head, he clucks his tongue. "No hombre, I'm going to show you what it felt like. Let's take your pequeño muchacho and see how brave he is."

"Leave my son alone! My son, I'm so sorry." Daddy redirects his pleas to Camillo as Mario yanked him out of the chair and throws him onto the ground with his hands still bound behind him. Cam tries to be strong. He's not crying anymore.

I opened my eyes and stare trapped in the nightmare. Visions latch onto my memories playing over and over like a movie reel, the climax of a horror scene. Tears escape sliding down my cheeks as I watch the innocent little girl who I pray will never have to live with memories like this. How different would life have been if daddy didn't go to work that day and instead went to my track meet.

My cell rings but I can't bring myself to take my eyes off the little girl and the life I could've had. It seems so unfair. I wonder what Camillo would look like today. Would our features still reflect the others? What type of girl would he like? Would daddy have been retired by now? And mama, her demise was something I can't fathom. I want to kill Mario for what he took away. Pleading not guilty to all counts (murder of a government official, his wife, their son and attempted murder of their daughter, aiding and embedding drug trafficking, money laundering), but was convicted anyway. Sentenced to life imprisonment without parole. Serving three life sentences plus fifty years isn't enough punishment in my eyes. Then those letters.

Fueled with rage, I pull away from the place I used to call home and head north.

Turning right, I immediately put on my bright lights and take the winding road slowly. Some would visit more often. To me it's a reminder of everything I lost and only brings more pain. I like to think they're watching from above rather than six foot under. I kill the engine and step out onto the lawn begging my legs to propel me to the destination.

Ever thankful, I dropped to my knees tracing the indentation of each name. I allow the sobs to take over leaning onto the stone. The pain is crippling. "Mama, I miss you," I whisper. "I could really use your help right now daddy." How would he handle the threats I refuse to acknowledge with every letter? I've changed everything once. I don't want to do it again. The grief of losing Anna would be too much. My therapist told me I have complicated grief and it relates to an adjustment disorder. The day she uttered those words I threw her stapler across the room. It didn't take a professional to define the intensity of my grief. Watching loved ones die, changing the course of your future and then knowing the persons responsible are still alive and breathing when they should be brutally massacred like my family-only slower.

"I'm so sorry," I run my hands over the stone trying to feel them. "I'm sorry I haven't been here in a while. Listen to me talking to a stone," a small chuckle escapes my throat. I wipe the tears. "Uncle Theo's been trying to find out who's behind the letters. He said outgoing letters to my address are supposed to be intercepted, but I get them. Someone's mailing letters from our hometown. Funny, huh? I'm trying to hang on and see that Mario and the rest of the Osario family continue to stay behind bars." Lost in my thoughts, I look heavenward hoping for a sign they're listening. "Did you know I met someone? Mama, you'd love him. He's so handsome. Daddy, you might not love him as much as mama," I smile. "Uncle Theo met him and I think he approves. I didn't want to date, scared I'd lose him too. My head is swarming with so many conflicting thoughts. I don't know what to do. Camillo, do you like the person I am today? I wish you were here to torment me. Birthdays are never the same now that I don't share them with you. I hate my birthday," the words come out choked. Taking a moment to calm the sobs, I continue. "Cam, I bet you'd love Anna. I can see you chasing after her. She's so beautiful and is an amazing friend. Gram and Gramps loved her. Uncle Theo treats her like his own. I know I should be thankful for all these things, but not sharing them with you is so hard. Sometimes I wish Mario killed me too and I'm sorry to say that. I know it's not what you want. It's difficult moving on without you." I fall to the ground sinking so deep.