Ivory handle butterfly knife with AA carved into it, and a bird wrapped in barbed wire.
Young or not, I recognized it. He always had it on him, and sometimes he would flip it open and my mother would scold him for playing with it.
The man in white flipped open the knife, observing the blade. “This is what comes, Arturo…” He pressed the blade up to my father’s throat. “Sangre por sangre. Tu sabes… si? You know how it must go.” His voice was smooth, tone calm.
Muy fácil… As if he wasn’t holding a blade to my dying father’s throat.
“Blood for blood, Arturo… Venganza.”
Revenge.
He leaned over my father’s face and hissed. “There is truly nothing sweeter.”
“Morir,” my father choked and coughed up blood. “Die, motherfucker! You will burn for this… Ivory…”
His words trailed into gurgling groans as the man dragged the blade across my father’s throat.
It appeared to be moving in slow motion, and I couldn’t tell if I was just seeing it that way, or if he really was taking his time slitting my father’s throat open.
I could feel the whimpers trying to escape me. My muscles were spasming, teeth chattering. I pinched my nose while covering my mouth, to hold my breath in completely, petrified that they would hear me.
I wasn’t sure if they knew I was there, but I could barely think. My brain was completely switched off. All I had was fear.
I couldn’t process that my parents were dead, and that I’d watched it happen. That my sister was gone, and I had no idea where she was or if she was dead too…
I was just afraid. That was it.
Staring at the blood pumping from the open gash in my father’s neck. The way it seemed to gasp out of him like a breath, coating the man’s white clothes.
When my father’s body stopped twitching, the man sat back, wiping the blade on my father’s shirt. Then he closed the knife and tucked it away in his pocket.
The man in white whispered something… I could barely make it out. But it sounded like, “Para ti, Tía Marfil. May his death satisfy you.”
Another man stalked into the room. “Your uncle says it’s time to go.”
The man in the white suit stained red sighed, “Arturo Alvarez… Tu imperio es mío.” He leaned over him once moreand grinned. “Gracias, Papi.” He placed a kiss on my father’s forehead, chuckling.
Then he stood up. “¿Qué pasa con los niños?”
What about the kids…?
My heart leapt up into my throat once more.
“We have the girl…” The other guy shrugged.
“Por que?”
“I don’t know, he said to take her. I got the safe. You take care of the boy.” The guy stomped right past me, and I was quaking.
“Dónde está, pajarito…?” The man in white called out, quietly taunting. “Come out of your cage…”
My body was shivering, head to toe, and I needed to breathe, but I couldn’t. I was terrified that he would hear me.
I watched his shoes step closer, and closer, his legs in white pants speckled with red approaching the closet.
He whipped the door open, and I jumped.
Tear-stained cheeks and wide eyes, my chest was pumping as I gaped up at him, in more fear than seemed possible for one person to experience.
