—“He deserves it”— said Helepa, laughing, validating the violence as if it were education.
That phrase, repeated in many homes, is the root of a problem that society still doesn’t want to look at head-on.
—“Please… the baby…”— I begged, and that plea wasn’t just for me, it was for a hypochondriac life trapped in a hostile environment.
Victor raised the stick, and in his eyes there was no doubt, only a dangerous conviction fueled by years of impunity.
At that moment, I saw my phone on the ground, a few meters away, like a last chance in the middle of chaos.
I lashed out at him, ignoring the pain, ignoring the risk, because sometimes survival is not logical, it is pure instinct.
—“Catch her!”— shouted Raúl, and that order revealed that it was not an isolated act, but a collective dynamic.
My fingers touched the screen, and in a desperate movement, I opened the chat with my brother Alex, the only person who could break that cycle.
I wrote two words that encompassed all my fear and all my hope: “Help. Please.”
The message was sent, and although Victor smashed the phone seconds later, it was already too late to stop the inevitable.
