Chapter 1: Hate

24 December 2006

She ran. She ran as fast as her feet would carry her. Through the darkness, she stumbled on bushes and rocks. Uneven ground slowed her down. She'd trip and fall, tearing skin off her knees, but it didn't matter. She got up and ran. Her lungs burned with every breath, but it didn't matter. She had to escape.

She could hear them behind her, yelling curses in her direction. They only fueled her fear. If they caught her now, she'd die. She pushed through the brush, reaching a clearing. Her heart sank. Before her: the ocean, beating mercilessly on the rocky shore. There was no escape. For her there would never be an escape.

She stood staring hopelessly at the beach. The screams of angry men grew closer. This was it. There was no place to go. Suddenly, one after another, men popped out from the forest. They surrounded her with guns fixed. But she stood, head held high, staring at the ocean. Her only chance at freedom died when she saw it. She had never hated anything more.

A man approached her from behind. He waved his hand and every gun dropped. He stepped close behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. He bent low and kissed the top of her head. "Nunca podrás escapar de mi [you will never escape from me]," he whispered into her ear.

She could feel his breath on her and it made her skin crawl. Yet, she didn't move. She didn't respond. She simply stood, with her head held high. Now his demeanor changed. He squeezed the back of her neck with one hand, sending pain shooting down her spine. She threw her head back and clenched every muscle in her body.

"Mira lo que me haces hacer. No querría hacerte daño, per ahora me forzaste el mano. Te enseñaré como respetarme, te lo juro maldita [look what you make me do. I didn't want to hurt you, but now you've forced my hand. I swear, I will teach you to respect me]."

He pushed her towards one of the armed men and she fell at his feet. "Llévala al campo. Vamos todos, muévensen! [Take her to camp. Let's go everyone, move!]"

The soldier pulled her to her feet and dragged her along. He walked quickly, with long strides through the brush. She struggled to keep up. Her already raw feet bled worse with every step she took.

Finally they reached a road. A truck was waiting for them. The soldier pushed her toward it. She tried to climb onto the back, but apparently she was moving too slowly. The soldier picked her up and threw her on. He jumped in beside her and others joined them.

She didn't look at them the whole ride. They didn't look at her. No one spoke: there was absolute silence. The ride felt like an eternity for her. She knew what awaited her at camp. She was in for the beating of her life; just maybe it could be the beating that ends her life. But at this point it didn't matter. She was done. She couldn't fight them anymore, so she prayed for death.

When they finally arrived at camp the other soldiers jumped right off the truck. The one that was in charge of her lifted her forcefully from where she was seated and threw her onto the ground. She yelped in pain as she hit the ground. The soldier didn't seem to care.

He jumped down beside her and dragged her up. He pulled her behind him, but she couldn't walk anymore. She collapsed. He looked back at her, more annoyed than anything else. He threw her over his shoulders and kept walking.

He walked through the center of the camp, passing a multitude of dark green tents. Throughout the campsite, burned large fires for the soldiers to keep warm. At the other end of the camp was a cage, twenty children inside. They sat there, broken. Their eyes, those that once sparkled with innocence, were now black, void of any emotion, void of any hope.

He walked up to the cage, but before he could open it. The leader ordered him to stop, "No, todavía no. [No, not yet]"

He motioned to the ground in front of him and the soldier dropped her there, face first. "Deténgala [Restrain her],"

Another soldier joined to help. They held her arms down against the ground as she lay in the dirt on her stomach. She struggled to look up at her leader, who stood before her with a long metal rod. He held one end in his hand hiding it from her. "Necesitas entender que tú eres mía. [You need to understand that you are mine]."

He took the metal rod and held the hidden end in the fire. As the metal heated it turned bright red. "Espero que después de ésto, nadie más atemptará lo que tú hiciste esta noche [I hope that after this, no one else will try what you pulled tonight]." He pulled the iron out of the fire. It was an emblem on the end of the rod. It glowed eerily in the night.

She had seen this before. She knew what was coming, but didn't dare to struggle it would only make things worse. He drew nearer with the brander in his hands. One of the soldiers tore open her shirt to expose her back. She buried her face in the dirt, clenching her eyes shut.

Then it came. Searing pain penetrated her. She clenched her teeth to avoid screaming in pain, but it was unavoidable. Traitorous tears spilled from her eyes. She hated those tears. She didn't want to give them the satisfaction of seeing her cry. If she cried it means they've won, but the pain was too much.

He removed the brand from her back. She inhaled the smell of her own burnt flesh and her anger burned stronger. He motioned to the soldiers to pick her up and they did. They held her before him.

He looked her in the eyes, but wasn't satisfied with what he saw. Her eyes burned with hate; there was still fight in her. That told him all he needed to know. As long as she fought, she had hope. His job was to destroy her hope.

"Llévala a mi cuartel. [Take her to my quarters]" he ordered.

They dragged her in and secured her to a post with rope, then left. Soon after, the music started again, it was Christmas Eve after all. She had put a halt to the camp's festivities when she escaped. Now that she was secure they could start again. She could smell beer and tobacco from inside the tent. Men laughed and yelled, taunting and teasing each other.

While they had the time of their lives, she struggled against the ropes until her wrists were raw. Unfortunately her binds were secure. She feared for what came next. After years of abuse, torture, what they called 'training', no one had ever taken her inside a soldier's barracks, much less a commanding officer's.

25 December 2006

Hours passed before he walked in, or stumbled rather. From the moment he entered she was overcome by the smell of alcohol. He didn't say anything. He looked at her as he fumbled to unstrap his firearms and other weapons. He secured them in a safe.

Then he came up to her. He breathed in her sweet scent. She knew what came next. She screamed out for a soldier, for anybody to hear her and stop him. She knew they could hear her, because she could hear them. Christmas music blasted in the background, along with the shouts and banter of dozens of drunken men. They ignored her.

He untied her. Her heart pounded in her chest. She couldn't breath; she couldn't move. Panic overtook her. She screamed and sobbed and begged for mercy, for help, but no one ever came.