Interrogation
I approached my father to express my concerns about the individual who stumbled upon our encampment deep within the Colombian Amazon rainforest. Given the remote nature of our location, I find it highly suspicious that he was able to locate us in such a vast and dense wilderness.
The likelihood of us being discovered is almost nonexistent, and I need to communicate this information convincingly. I took a moment to speak with my father, urging him to reflect on his reasons for being in this situation. I know my father and stepmother, Monica, believe in my instincts and judgment. Gesturing for them to come closer, I shared my suspicions about what might be happening. To my relief, my father revealed that he harboured similar concerns and had a gut feeling about the situation. At that moment, I am reminded of his reputation; he is one of the most successful criminals in the world, and his intuition has always guided him well in navigating dangerous waters.
With unwavering resolve, Aurelio raised his weapon and fired at the enemy, the sharp report cutting through the tense air. As the dust settled, a startling truth hit me: my stepmother, Monica, and my father were deeply entangled in a clandestine affair with a young twenty-one-year-old guerrilla fighter. This bold move reminded me that I need to embrace this approach moving forward.
My father's first question: Who do you work for?
The spy: Screams and cries from being shot and says no one ( First lie)
Aurelio released a cold, cackling laugh that echoed in the stillness, giving the prisoner a cruel smile that promised he would not escape this interrogation alive. His sadistic amusement was palpable, and I saw the harsh determination set into his features like stone. Without hesitation, he instructed me to fetch salt, intent on pouring it mercilessly over the captive's wounds. I hesitated, the weight of this brutal task heavy upon me, but Aurelio's fierce gaze pinned me in place. He commanded me again to grab the salt and be hands-on with the task, to pour it slowly and deliberately over the bleeding injuries. I gulped, knowing there was no room for softness or mercy. As I began to follow his orders, the spy's desperate cries filled the air, a raw mixture of agony and pleading. "No one!" he shouted. "I work alone! I swear it!"
I hesitate to express my thoughts because I worry that it might reveal my uncertainty, which suggests that I didn't already have some idea of the answer. At just 14 years old, I feel too young and inexperienced for anyone to take my opinions seriously, and that makes me anxious about how I'm perceived. My greatest fear is being labelled as a psychopath or being misunderstood at such a young age.
Given the nature of my profession, which is contracting with each passing day, I find myself navigating a landscape where cruelty and depravity are often perversely rewarded. In this world of work, my every move will be scrutinised with a sharper focus compared to others of my age, all because of the shadow cast by my father's reputation. The pressure feels like a relentless tide, ever-present and inescapable, threatening to sweep away any semblance of anonymity or ordinary expectations.
I set aside my thoughts about how I'm seen by others and listened to my father as he asked his second question.
Aurelio( second question)- So you have stated you are not part of the paramilitaries; let's say I believe you, which I don't know how you are going to convince me to spare you from the torment that you will receive in the near future. Because what I am going to do, the Diablo will weep, and in this scenario, and in this business, I am the devil. Do you understand what I am saying? Soon, I will start on the teeth, and you have such beautiful teeth.
I would hate to risk everything we've worked so hard to establish. So, I must ask: who sent you to dig up dirt on me and the cartel? How do you plan to deliver this information? Your answer is only a matter of time; rest assured, you will share what you know, one way or another. Aurelio told me to drench the gunshot wound with tequila. As the fiery liquid touches his flesh, he lets out a piercing scream that echoes through the dense foliage. We find ourselves deep in the heart of the Colombian Amazon jungle, surrounded by towering trees and the symphony of wildlife.
His voice is raspy from screaming, and he answered that he was part of the paramilitaries.
I said to him, Thank you for your cooperation and I then shot him in the head impulsively.