Friends and readers, in this chapter I will need your opinions:

You see, this work will have a few complete dialogues and single words in Spanish... this is so because I thought it would serve to make the difference between before and after even more obvious... my question is the following: do you prefer to keep the dialogues in Spanish or to translate those few dialogues into English and just highlight them with italics?

please, give me your opinios

01-. Diablo

When Rosa returned home from the field, still with her back bathed in sweat, the faces she found inside those four walls were completely different from the usual ones. Instead of finding the usual indifference of tiredness, she found that her parents and brother were serious, very serious and silent.

Without saying a word as a greeting to her family, Rosa slid like a shadow to the small iron stove at the back of the house, with a grimace of disgust she scraped the bottom of the clay pot. The dried crust of beans they had saved for her to eat was barely enough for a taco, but it didn't cross her mind to complain to anyone; since a few months ago until now whoever came last went to bed without food.

"Es que ya ni hay con qué, se los juro," Ronalda, their mother, always murmured when that situation happened again and it was her turn to apologize to her children.

Before she could eat, the youngest daughter of the Manzano couple knelt down and began to give thanks for her food. The girl's pitiful voice was barely able to interrupt the foolish silence of the elders. Her voice was confused with the sound of the crickets and the noise of the mountain.

"... líbranos del mal, amén."

For the duration of the half-voiced prayer, no other human sound was present, but when Rosa finished her prayer, a deep sob finally broke the silence that had been maintained inside the home. With his head buried in his wife's arms, Agustin Manzano, even in his fifties, began to let out his sorrows as a child would.

Rosa had never seen her father cry, and according to what they said in town, no one, not even his wife, had ever experienced anything like that. All she could remember was her father's cascading voice repeating ad nauseam "Los hombres no chillan". To see such a scene could only portend horrible things.

With her soul trying to escape through her throat because of fear. Rosa came close to her older brother, Roberto, short of breath, she could only ask him with her gaze

"Nos vamos manita," the teenager said as he pinched her cheek affectionately, "nos vamos pal´ otro lado… quesque como braceros".

Rosa had already heard about that "otro lado" after all, many people from the town had already gone there, at the beginning the government took only the men, under the promise of well-paid work, but later and very gradually, entire families ended up leaving too... the Manzano family had never heard that any of them had returned.

Once her arms were free, Ronalda began to pack up the family's meager belongings. Yes, the woman had a sad look on her face, but unlike her husband she didn't let her emotions get the better of her. Drawing on a strength equal to that of the mountain itself, she concentrated on her task.

"Tú, niña, ayúdame a guardar la ropa, ándale" Rosa understood, if they were going to make such a long trip, it was essential to keep and protect their things as well as possible.

So the girl, barely ten years old, began to fold and arrange the few clothes in a cardboard box, the only box that would hold everything they would carry, but it was so hard for her to fight back the tears. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore and in a huff she stormed out of the den slamming the door behind her. She needed to see her mountain, her land, one last time. She ran off to the foothills, the screams of her father and brother were left behind.

-o-

Carl picked up his pace as he passed the cars in the parking lot of the meat processing plant. That old white-walled building had always scared him, and the crushing silence that reigned around the clock and was only interrupted by the sound of the tires of a car driving nearby didn't help in the least to improve his impression. Nervously, he pulled the paper out of his hoodie pocket and checked the handwritten address on it for the ninth time.

Finally, after a lot of asking, he found the corner he was looking for. At the side of the curb was parked a dirty white van, with tinted front windows, one of the headlights broken and both fenders in tatters, but despite the abandoned look, the tires were new and a thick curtain of black smoke was coming out of the exhaust pipe.

As he had been instructed beforehand, Carl opened the passenger door with the sleeve of his hoodie. Out of habit he knew that he would find the door unlocked, but he hadn't expected to see a white-haired woman sitting in the driver's seat; there had never been anyone in the car before. Even more nervous than before, if such a thing were possible, the boy took two steps back, fully aware that it could be a trap. It was something he had seen on television; the police raided houses in poor areas of the city, at best those raids only resulted in the seizure of drugs and weapons but there were a few cases, more and more it seemed, where what the uniformed men found were women and children. It was bad to get mugged, but to get caught in a trap and get on a TV report after being... "molested" was a lot worse. Carl would rather end up with a knife in his ribs and an empty wallet than suffer from human trafficking, at least defending himself against an assailant would make her proud.

But he'd already accepted the forty dollars and he wanted to believe that his cousin's friends would never put him in the middle of a really dangerous situation... although he didn't trust the new guy that much; Nikki's new contact, though, they'd both assured him it was easy money. At the last minute he took three steps forward and closed the van door behind him, unconsciously gritting his teeth.

"It'll be all right," said the voice of the white-suited guy, Nikki's new contact, inside Carl's adrenaline-fueled mind.

Despite the surprise of being accompanied by the woman, Carl didn't see anything threatening inside the van –behind the two front seats was a smooth metal partition with no windows or slots to show the other side, completely sealing off the back of the van– but he suspected that if they wanted to attack him, they wouldn't even let him know about it... or at least that's how it worked in the movies.

"So... What should I carry this time?" The woman didn't move or answer, and Carl didn't insist on getting an answer. Following the procedure he was accustomed to, the boy opened the glove compartment, again with the sleeve of his hoodie. He did so slowly and carefully, as if he was afraid that as soon as he opened it a dangerous vermin would jump out at him, and the dim light inside the glove compartment came on, allowing him to see a small envelope.

The first thing he saw when he peeked inside the paper container was the rest of his paycheck: a hundred-dollar bill.

"Great! It's even more than the last few times," he was pleased to get the raise, in his mind it meant that they were starting to take him seriously or at least they were finally considering him as one of their own, "but hey, I've already told you guys not to pay me with such big bills, where am I supposed to change a brand new billetote without raising suspicions?

He'd have to trick Bobby again to get him to change it, but even as a legal citizen of legal age the bankers would check everything that came out of a Latino's pocket.

"All right, forget it, I'll deal with it!" Both the silence and the immobility of the white-haired woman began to worry Carl. "But I'd at least like to know where the stuff I'm supposed to carry is, or if you let me, maybe I can be the one to sell it this time, 'cause it doesn't say anything in here..."

The last thing Carl caught a glimpse of through his peripheral vision was a pair of glowing red eyes and a needle filled with a fluorescent green liquid.

-o-

"Grandpa, remember that today is Black Friday; if you ever need help again, don't hesitate to give me a shout and I'll fly down to help you."

Ronnie Anne rushed out of "El Mercado" after helping her grandfather on the busiest Friday of the year. After spending the last four hours scanning bar codes and bagging customers' purchases, Hector finally thanked his granddaughter and told her that she had earned her reward and a well-deserved rest, and boy, would she enjoy the break lying in bed! The Latina girl checked the time on her cell phone, it was at least another hour before her grandmother would have the food ready.

"Damn it! I should have picked something bigger," her icy popsicle had suddenly lost all its seductive charm. Maybe Grandpa won't mind if I switch my "reward"... or if I borrow some chips."

Ronalda was about to turn around the block when she felt a gasp behind her, turning on one foot as fast as she could, she caught sight of a red-haired man in a white suit smiling openly at her.

"Hello, pretty girl! I was told you might be interested in earning some extra money," the man's smile widened to an extent Ronnie Anne thought impossible, as he took off his top hat and bowed slightly with it. "I think it's lovely that you want to help your 'special friend' by earning money for him."

The girl's mind froze, how was she supposed to react to such a strange stranger speaking directly to her? Luckily for her, she remembered at the last minute a tactic Carlota had taught her years ago to avoid awkward small talk on the street.

"Exkuze me Don, but I'm not a gringa," said Ronnie in his best imitation of his inherited accent. God bless those Spanish talks with grandma! "Yu knou... I'm just a thoorist."

As she spoke, Ronalda kept walking towards the entrance to her building, ready to run as soon as she was on the other side of the doors.

"Please Ronnie, don't want to cheat an old friend," with a single stride the stranger cut the distance between them. "Your little cousin told me that you want to help your boyfriend and I think I can support you in whatever you want... in exchange for some favors, of course. Nothing too difficult, I just want you to come with me for a moment."

Ronnie Anne shot out as soon as she heard the last part, after taking three long strides she managed to open the double door and entered the old building while the man laughed behind her back.

Once she was in the safety of the familiar residential hallway, the image of her cousin Carl instantly popped into her mind, that spoiled little brat who dreamed of being a hustler, always sitting in half the living room, cursing at everything while the Santiago's tried their hardest to live with the extended family. She remembered the attitude the brat had recently adopted; permanently squashed on the couch in the grandparents' house, very still... suspiciously still.

"I know that look, but believe me this is not for you to think that the little one is the only Diablo living with you," the man's voice sounded inside her head, radiating confidence, "I mean, he can disappear every now and then some of sweet grandma Rosa's belongings or pretend he doesn't smoke hiding in the bathroom. But we all know what you've done to your own family."

Horrible emotions began to flood Ronnie Anne's mind, coloring her face crimson. Unable to better externalize her growing tension, she tried to ignore the hot and sour sensation growing inside her throat, but just as she felt the fury reach critical limits, a revelation forced her to stop frowning: the experience that had so long ago left her sleepless came back clear and vivid, the reason why they had to move from Royal Woods. As she relived the memory, her body began to tremble.

-o-

She was still eleven years old. The midday sun beat down on the back of her neck, and her broad forehead, always concealed by her hairdo, was covered with sweat. Bobby, as usual, was on the phone with Lori. María was arguing incomprehensibly with her ex-husband over the phone in a bizarre mix of Spanish and English.

"If you're not going to let us in the house at least let us go!" Said the girl wiping sweat from her forehead for the third time in a row, "It's like one hundred four degrees out here!"

"No way, girl, we're not leaving until the exterminator arrives!" María's nostrils flared furiously before turning back to the cell phone. "Did you hear that, Roberto?! That was your escuincla suffering for the beautiful chinches you gave us!"

"Mom, please speak more quietly, besides, it's not Dad's fault," Bobby mumbled the last, "it was just an infested carpet."

"Exactly, and it wasn't Dad's intention that gave us..."

"Ronalda, for God's sake be quiet and do your maldita tarea!"

At the scolding and the tone used, Ronnie had no choice but to shut her mouth and return her gaze to her notebook, if only she had managed to get her own cellphone out of her room before the itch drove them all out of the house, she could make better use of her time on a video call with Lincoln than having to endure her brother's mushy words and her mother's yelling. However, she didn't have the device with her so she was obligated to finish her algebra problems before María's or Bobby's gazes landed back in her direction depositing a whole list of threats in a single gesture, but nothing was stopping her from taking a little break.

"Mom, I'm almost done with this... Can I go to the store for an icy popsicle?" María just raised a hand saying "don't bother me right now" to her daughter, Ronnie interpreted it as "do whatever you want".

"Can you get one for me Nini? A manzanita flavored one," her brother asked, covering the speaker of his cell phone with one hand. "What are you saying Lori? No! I didn't called manzanita to anyone besides you!"

Disgusted by her brother's attitude towards the first-born Loud and stunned by the shouting that her parents were still making on the phone, Ronalda went out to the front yard of the house.

On the main road, on the opposite sidewalk from her own, Lindsay Sweetwater, always dressed in that hideous green dress, was walking her noisy labradoodle "Cinnamon" without a leash. The girl, then still six years old, was half-singing a pop song, that was until her face turned in the direction of Ronnie Anne.

"Hello, monkey girl!" Unluckily for the Santiago's, their house was right across the street from that of the most racist family in all of Royal Woods. After all attempts to erase the circle between them had failed, her mother had forbidden her two sons to go anywhere near the Sweetwater family. "You know, I read that dogs don't like dumb animals one bit! I want to experiment!"

And with no more warning than that, the spoiled girl ordered the brown canine to attack. Ronalda didn't run this time, she was tired of always being the one to avoid provoking that troublesome family.

"¡Cierra el hocico!" Ronnie shouted with an almost uncontrollable fury. At the girl's fierce stare, the furry dog stopped dead in its tracks, staggered on all fours and suddenly consumed in a ball of fire. Ronalda smiled, possessed by a feverish, unconscious satisfaction, and was about to turn her hate-filled gaze on the red-haired girl when a hand grabbed her shoulder and shook her, snapping her out of her trance.

Bobby had heard the neighbor's screams and decided, like any good big brother, to go out to defend his little sister, but what he had seen... nothing could fully explain it and that wasn't the worst of it, the neighbor girl had also seen it, in the look of the three of them there was only one thing: fear.

Just a week after the incident, the Santiago family had moved to the town of Great Lakes, where his grandparents lived.

-o-

Trying to avoid any neighbors, and with his heart in the palm of her hand, Ronnie climbed fourteen steps to his flat and crossed the narrow hallway to the red door of his grandmother's apartment, all the way without seeing anyone in the corridors.

She was afraid of being discovered once again, before she thought that by moving to the city where no one knew her, she would be able to live a normal life... but she had been discovered once again... her family had betrayed her.

Ronalda knocked on the door with a clenched fist, getting a little more annoyed as time passed alone in the hallway with no answer. She waited a few more seconds and knocked again, only this time louder. Then she pounded on the door until the doorframe itself began to shudder.

Without wasting another moment, Anne leaned her ear against the wooden surface, listening to what was happening on the other side. The television was on as usual.

"Carl!" The girl cried hysterically, "Cabrón! OPEN THE DAMN DOOR!"

Straining his ears again, Ronnie heard the chain and lock being removed. She waited for the door to open but it never did. Then she shook out her hoodie, tossed the completely melted popsicle, the contents of which were beginning to drip out of her hands, into a nearby pot, and turned the knob.

Carl was sitting motionless in the corner of Grandma's armchair, the same spot he occupied when everyone was at home. From the kitchen she was greeted by the sound of pots and pans and the smell of food, as always.

"Abue, you know where's Mom or Aunt Frida?" asked Ronnie.

"Qué bueno que llegaste mija, your mother is asleep and I don't know where that woman could be, she left about half an hour ago," said grandma Rosa happily, her words and her good mood almost made the girl leave the whole Carl's thing alone, but a quick glance at the almost catatonic state of her younger cousin made her frown again.

"You fucking drug addict," she whispered, clenching her fists, the heat and fury returning to her body. "You're not getting away from this scolding."

The boy remained silent, sitting in the same place on the couch without moving, but now he was staring at her.

Aunt Frida might not be the sternest woman Ronalda had ever known, but she was sure that in the face of something this big she would finally react and intervene for the good of her son and the family.

Thinking about how she would approach her aunt and uncle so she could tell them about the little ten-year-old's attitude and dangerous friendships, Ronalda walked over to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator after giving a kiss on the cheek to her grandmother, who was walking to the table with an overflowing crock pot of refried beans in her arms.

"Chamaca, fix yourself up a little bit, today Mrs. Kernicky will join us for lunch," said Rosa after giving her granddaughter a playful push with her hip, "did I tell you that she's now a member of the church of an orphanage? Well, I want to participate in some of her charity works, it's enough of complaining and doing nothing, don't you think so?"

After a few minutes, Ronalda heard knocking on the door and Rosa's heavy feet moving to answer it «tha old spinster is here» thought Ronalda with half her body inside the refrigerator while she took the ice cream pot out of the fridge, but instead of hearing her neighbor's squeaky voice or her grandmother's laughter, what reached her ears was the sound of a pair of feet falling against the wooden floor and a high-pitched grunt.

She turned quickly as she heard footsteps and heavy breathing approaching rapidly from behind but by the time she had completed the turn, Carl had already launched himself at her, slamming her against the wall. Ronalda raised her arms to protect her face from some of the blind blows her little cousin was throwing at her, having her sight obstructed, she had to use her touch to find the boy's thin neck and once she managed to locate it, she squeezed firmly, choking him.

I must clarify that English is not my native language, but nevertheless I translated this story from Spanish as best as I could... I'm open to criticism and complaints as long as they help me to improve my written English.

I hope you guys enjoyed the reading.