Aragua Must Fall

The bloody Miami Night

"Why are you loading your magazine? We don't need guns tonight. Put it away."

"Boss says we ensure she's dead!" Finn said, lifting a brow. Hands still busy.

"Put that away. I'm in charge of the operation. I decide what happens to her tonight. We can't end the life a pretty woman just because boss commands it you i***t! I say we keep her for ourselves and maybe after you've enjoyed screwing her you can kill her. That's if you don't change your mind for the love of a tight hole." Funny joke. Everyone stared at Finn with mocking laughter echoing in the van. Van pulled out into the main street.

“Mommy, slow down… my legs are tired,” Miranda complained feeling sleepy.

“I know, baby girl. We’re almost there. Just hold on a little longer.”

Little Miranda wasn’t aware this was her last night with her mom and the beginning of her sorrows.

Tonight in Miami is humid, full of distant sirens and the low hum of the city. Carolina walked fast, almost running, one hand gripping Miranda’s small fingers tight. The seven-year-old’s school bag bounced against her leg with every step.

Carolina had kept Miranda at the supermarket after school until closing. She felt it’s better than leaving her home alone. The streets felt too quiet and dark tonight, she knew something was wrong.

Suddenly, headlights shined ahead of them. A black van came to a stop right in front of them, blocking the sidewalk completely. Carolina’s heart pounced for fear as four men came out, masks pulled low, all dressed in black clothes.

“Run, baby! Run!” Carolina screamed, shoving Miranda toward the narrow gap between two buildings. Carolina quickly took out a crumpled receipt from her pocket, and with the pen clipped to her name tag, she wrote a phone number in shaking letters. At the bottom she wrote two words:

Call Dad.

She tuck the paper deep into Miranda’s jacket pocket.

Miranda stumbled, eyes huge. “Mommy?”

“Go! Now!”

One masked man lunged at Carolina. She swung her purse hard, hitting him across the face that the strap snapped and coins and keys scattered.

“Get off her!” she yelled, kicking and trying to keep him away, but another grabbed her from behind with strong arms around her chest.

“Mommy, leave my mommy alone.” Miranda’s voice broke.

“Hide! Please, baby, hide!”

A third man snatched Miranda by the collar, she screamed with a high pitch. The man raised his fist.

“No! Not my daughter!” Carolina moved violently, slamming her elbow into the man holding her. He grunted but didn’t let go.

The fist came down hard on Miranda, her head snapped sideways, blood bloomed on her lip.

Carolina sobbed. “Stop! She’s only seven!”

The man hit her harder again. Miranda collapsed as her knees started shaking, she fell near the dirty drainage ditch, right beside an overflowing trash can leaking rot and rainwater.

Carolina’s legs gave out. “Please… take me… leave her alone…”

Low, muffled laughter came from under the masks. One kicked Carolina in her ribs so hard that air exploded from her lungs. They dragged her backward toward the van.

“Mommy!” Miranda’s cry was weak, and fading.

Carolina reached out, fingers straining to escape. “Miranda… I love you…”

The van door slid open with a metallic screech, then they threw her inside and slammed the door shut.

They started the van’s engine, tires squealed and the black van drove away.

Miranda lay on the ditch, blood pooling under her cheek. Her small chest rose and fell in shallow gasps. She saw the red taillights disappear… saw her mother’s face one last time… and she thought mommy was gone forever.

Pain throbbed everywhere, she could not see clearly and everything went black.

.

For about two to three hours later, the streets stayed empty except for the occasional noise of car whooshing past.

Micah staggered out the back door of Club, her heels wobbling on the pavement. Pink and electric blue neon light flickered ahead of her, washing over her tired face. She smelled of spilled alcoholic drink, body spray, and cigarette smoke.

Her shift had ended at 2 a.m., tips sucked, head spinning from too many shots.

She walked across the parking lot like always, past the supermarket where Carolina worked the evening shift. They always waved. Sometimes Carolina slipped her a free coffee or a leftover sandwich when no one was looking.

“Good people,” Micah muttered to herself, swaying a little.

She stopped walking the moment she saw a small dark shape sprawled on the ground near the drainage ditch with clothes torn. Blood shining wet under the streetlight.

“Oh no…”

Micah’s stomach dropped. She ran towards her, her heels clacking, almost tripping, she dropped hard to her knees beside the girl.

“Kid? Hey… kid, wake up…”

Micah’s hands trembled as she touched the child’s neck because she wasn’t moving, she noticed her faint pulse and shallow breathing. Her face was swollen with blood everywhere, because her lower lip was wounded, one eye puffed shut and purple.

“Jesus… what the hell happened to you? Who did this to you?”

Micah looked around wildly. There was no one around and no car at all. Just trash bags and wet floor.

She slid her arms under the tiny body and lifted her carefully against her chest. Miranda was so light it hurt “Hold on, sweetheart. I got you.” Micah said as she hurried toward her apartment three blocks away, her heart raced the entire time.

...who will do this to a kid? Where’s the mother?...

She kicked open her door, didn’t bother with lights. She laid Miranda gently on the couch, hearing the little girl moan, barely conscious. Micah grabbed a towel, wet it under the faucet, and started wiping blood from the little face.

“People are so mean in this city. I pray I don’t get into trouble trying to help”

That’s when the paper slipped out of Miranda’s jacket pocket, a crumpled looking receipt. Micah unfolded it and saw the phone number and two the words written underneath:

Call Dad.

Micah stared at it with a racing heart, she whispered, “Who the hell is Dad?”

Miranda stirred, one eye cracking open, the amber eye that wasn’t swollen shut. “Mommy…?” Her voice was tiny and broken.

Micah swallowed hard. “No, baby, but it’s okay. You’re safe now.”

Miranda’s lip trembled. “They took her… they took Mommy…”

Micah’s throat tightened. She looked back at the paper, and back at the bruised, bleeding child on her couch. Then at her phone on the counter.

She didn’t know what she was getting into, but she knew she’ll be in big trouble once she makes the call.