“Can someone tell me if they have seen my husband?” the wife asked,
his name is Ernesto X, he’s 40-years old,
he’s a watchman at a car dealer
He was wearing a dark shirt and light colored pants.
He left two nights ago and hasn’t come back.
And I don’t know what else to think...
because this hadn’t happened to me before.
I’ve been looking for my sister for three days,
her name is Altagracia, like my grandmother.
She left work for school
She was wearing jeans and a white shirt.
She’s not with her boyfriend, they guy is at home.
They don’t know about her at the National Security Police, or at the hospital,
Can someone tell me if they have seen my son?
His name is Agustín and he’s a medical student.
That Agustin is a good kid.
Sometimes he’s hard -headed with his opinions.
He’s been detained, I don’t know by whom.
Stripped shirt and trousers, it happened the day before yesterday.
My mother’s name is Clara Quiñones.
She is kindhearted, doesn’t hurt anybody.
They took her as a witness
for something that’s just my business.
And I turned myself in this afternoon,
and now they say nobody knows who took her from the police station.
Last night I heard several explosions;
Shotguns and gun shots.
Speeding cars, screeching tires, screams...
the sound of boots hitting the pavement.
Door knocks, complaints, broken dishes and pleas...
The soap opera was on...
So nobody looked outside.
Where do the missing go?
Look in the bodies of water and bushes
And why are they missing?
Because we’re not all equal...
And when do the missing return?
Each time our thoughts bring them back to us.
How does one call the missing?
With our emotions pressing inside.