When my cousin went, it was worse than all the four. They kidnapped him, tortured him, and killed him. You know who did it? His cousin. His own cousin. That's what hurt most.
His uncle loved him - his uncle - loved him like a son. I know that's why his real son did it - out of jealousy, pure jealousy. My uncle paid for private detectives, guards, even ex-Navy Seals, to find out what happened. They had men on rooves, everything.
Then they found out it was my cousin killed his own cousin. They told my uncle. He called his brother at home one night, drunk, broken hearted with remorse for what his son did, and said I know where the body is. One year to the day after he was kidnapped they dug up the body. Then they got my cousin.
They let my uncle hold the gun on him when they got him. I could have squeezed the trigger and killed him right there, he said. But I didn't. I wanted him to suffer like my son suffered.
They pulled out his fingernails, beat him, everything like he did to his own cousin.
When they called to tell my mom she fainted. My sister hit the wall with her fist. I cried and cried.
The worst thing, almost as bad as losing him, was that it was our own family that did this to one of our own. So it was our own family that punished him.
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Copyright 2001 Daniel Charles Thomas | email: tijuanagringo@yahoo.com |