There are a lot of weird Internet memes out there, I have one for you, and this is based on an actual incident…
I had a beautiful cousin named Marta, and she was going to Medical School on the mainland but worked summers as a singer in a local nightclub. She stayed with her mother, Irma, who was also my aunt.
One night while singing, she met a local, he was guitar player named Carlos, whom she worked with at the club and fell in love with almost immediately.
Carlos was no stranger to beautiful women, and he had many friends, people who liked him but also people who were maybe too afraid to be otherwise.
I never cared for the man, and I begged Marta not to see him, for I knew him personally, not just by reputation. Carlos wasn't just a pretty face, he was as handsome as he was sadistic, but he wore his looks like a mask to hide the horrid person he was inside.
Not long after they dated, I found Marta trying to cover a black eye with heavy makeup. I was horrified. And angry.
Carlos worked as a Merchant Marine, so when Marta and I were alone during the day, I tried to convince her that he was no good, and not just for her, but anyone.
I told her I was standing next to him at the bar when he struck me with his fist on the side of my jaw. He did it just to see if he could knock me unconscious with one hit.
I tried to get up to hit him back, but I could not find my legs. After he struck me, I had to crawl out of the bar. He was laughing at me the entire time, that horrible evil laugh. Then I took out my knife.
The next day, when he saw me, he told me he was too drunk to realize who he had hit and thought I was somebody else. Then he told me that after I left, someone had slashed all four tires on his new jeep that night.
I said, "That's horrible, Carlos. Who would do such a horrible thing?"
And he just stared at me.
I saw Marta play much later when Carlos was not supposed to be there. It was her birthday that night, so I waited for her at the table while she performed on stage.
Carlos showed up unannounced and made his way behind me. He grabbed one of the nearby table candles used as decorations and set the back of my Army Coat on fire while I was sitting on the chair.
It was supposed to be a joke, and he said he tried to put the fire out right away, but he didn't. It "accidentally" got away from him. After the fire had spread, my coat suddenly went up in a blaze. I could have been killed.
I was distracted. I had a bottle of champagne that I had ordered for Marta to celebrate her birthday, and it had just been delivered to the table before Carlos arrived.
I was going to make a toast to her right after she finished her current song, but I took the bottle out of the bucket instead and tried to dump the melted ice on what remained of my jacket.
I saw Carlos nearby, laughing as if it was the funniest thing he had ever seen. I stood there in shock until I heard that same evil laughter again.
I was so infuriated by what Carlos had done that I grabbed the bottle from the table and threw it at him as hard as I could, aiming for his head. It missed him as he ducked and exploded on the wall behind him.
"You almost took my head off," Carlos said in a murderous tone.
"Go, Marta, just leave the island," I said.
She was still trying to cover that eye.
"Leave him while he's at work and never return," I pleaded, "Or this man will kill you. But all I did was give Marta an excuse to stay. She would not give up on Carlos as everyone else had.
She explained that Carlos was the actual victim, as he had never felt like he was ever loved. And that is why he acted so horribly. She wanted to save him from himself!!!
Marta was a gentle soul, fragile and beautiful. She tried to see the good in everyone, even if it never existed in that person in the first place, which was to be her demise.
One day shortly after that, Carlos was working offshore when one of the thick cables holding the support mast snapped and cut him across the neck, slicing it open like a razor. The cut was so deep that it almost decapitated his head from his body.
S-s-s-s-n-a-p!!!
Immediately, the other workers rushed Carlos to the hospital, hoping the doctors could save his life, but that was impossible. His spine had been severed, and they could not stop the bleeding. In the end, the doctors could do nothing but wait helplessly for him to die -like the rest of us.
We have all heard stories about the brain, how it continues to live even after the heart has stopped beating, and vice-versa. Nobody knows why, but Carlos continued to live thru the accident and was even conscious the entire time. Even en route to the hospital, he never shut his eyes.
When I was in the Army, I was told that if I was ever shot and couldn't move, I would try to stop the bleeding with direct pressure and then try to lie still, breathe swallow, and keep calm. But, if possible, keep my eyes open. If you could stay conscious, it would help you survive.
Maybe it did because when we got to the hospital, Carlos was still alive, where by all accounts, he should have died at the scene. His eyes had been open the whole time.
There was a famous case about a man named Phineas P. Gage (1823 – May 21, 1860) who worked railroad construction and survived a freak accident where the long iron rod he carried was used to pack gunpowder, with was driven entirely through his skull when he ignited the powder by accident.
Gage was setting a blast by boring a hole into the ground, but he was running behind, so after he dug the hole and filled it with gunpowder, he started pounding the powder with his crowbar but forgot to cover it with sand first.
The sand was the insulator. The iron bar stuck something that made a spark, and the gunpowder exploded, sending the rod straight thru his head.
They rushed Gage to the doctor, with the rod still implanted in his skull, and not only did he stay conscious but lived another twelve years afterward. Medical Science is still at a loss to explain how or why, even today.
Regarding Carlos, the shock waves of the tragedy traveled thru the island at the speed of light, and everybody in the village crowded outside the hospital anxiously to verify if the story was true.
Was he alive?
Was he dead?
Could the doctors save his life?
When I got the phone call and heard what had happened, I immediately drove Marta to the hospital. The hospital staff mistakenly thought that we were family, Marta, his wife, and me, his brother, and they let us both in but confiscated our camera phones at the desk.
When we entered the room, the two doctors and nurses that had their backs to us immediately left as soon as we entered. We didn't have time to ask them a single question.
Let me ask you, "Have you ever had a surreal experience?"
Maybe you were the captive of a serial killer but managed to escape?
Or you got attacked by a bear while hiking, but you lived to tell the tale despite being mauled?
Sometimes experiences defy words, but I'll describe the experience to you as best I can. Carlos, couldn't move, but he was still alive, and he could even talk single words, but everything sounded guttural. Talk is the wrong word. Scream would be more accurate.
Carlos had his neck bandaged, but the doctors could do nothing to stop the bleeding. The doctors tried to give Carlos's blood, but he lost it as fast as he received it. Imagine pouring water thru a screen window.
If I was still alive and knew that I was dying, I would have been terrified, and like most people, I would have prayed to God, or at least thought the words, even if I could not say them. The fear of going to Hell would have motivated me until the last second, no matter the circumstances.
Carlos, who had lived a horrible life, stayed true to character right to the end. He didn't look terrified, which was ironic considering that he, of all people, should have been. If Carlos didn't know he was going to Hell, everyone else did.
Maybe, Carlos wasn't even aware of his situation. I'm told some people don't even realize they're dying if the circumstances of the accident are sudden or tragic enough.
I went to the bathroom because I knew I was going to be sick, and after I vomited in the toilet, I tried to be strong for Marta, but in the end, I lost it.
I could hear Carlos's "yelling" (for lack of a better term) at my cousin, Marta, who had been crying the entire time.
"Your fault (which sounds like Yurss-Vvvalt)," he screamed repeatedly.
Finally, when I exited the bathroom, Marta looked like a woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown and ready to "snap."
There's that word again.
After I was out, she went crying into the bathroom hysterically. I made sure the door was shut behind her.
I wasn't the type to spread gossip or speak ill of another person behind their back. Not even about a horrible person like Carlos, but I wanted to tell him what I thought about him before he died, even thou I'm sure he already suspected.
Before I had only pretended to be his friend and always told him I forgave his behavior, so I could get him alone. I wanted to stay close to him, so I could kill him when I had the chance.
I would try and make it look like an accident to avoid jail; I hated him that much. When fate stepped in, I thought I had lost my chance forever.
Or had I???
I bent down slightly so I could face him, "I hate you, Carlos, I have always hated you, and if there is a hell, I promise you will find your way in it very soon, my "friend."
"My only regret is that I could not give you this horrible death you deserve. I only wish that there was some way that I could make you suffer even more right up until the moment you die."
And then I poorly imitated his laugh, the evil laugh that only he could do. I wanted him to hear it, I don't know if he even understood me, but Carlos had hate in his eyes. I'm sure if he had any recognition, he knew what I meant because he spat blood, which landed just under my eye.
Then he smiled. Even in death, unable to talk. He was determined to have the last word. I'm sure Hell would find Carlos, but not soon enough for me!!!
I was about to do the unthinkable, something so horrible that only Carlos himself could appreciate it. I took my work gloves out from the side pocket of my coat -in case he tried to bite me.
Then I covered his mouth, so no one would hear him scream, and I reached behind his skull and tried to wrench his head from his body. I pulled on it as hard as I could until I could feel his veins, tendons, and the skin connected with stitches finally give way.
Only when I felt that sickening weight. That same horrible weight of a dead animal that had got hit by a car in front of my house. I had to pick it up with a shovel and dispose of it.
Only at the last second did I open my eyes, so I could put the remains on the second hospital bed.
I felt like I was about to lose consciousness. I couldn't believe what I had just done. I was in complete shock. I stared at the two pieces of his body I had separated. Then when I found the courage, I turned to look at him at what I had done.
When I separated his head, I thought it would have killed Carlos instantly, if nothing else, just from the shock alone. But when I finally opened my eyes… to my horror, Carlos was still alive. And he was staring straight at me.
I looked over at the first bed, and his body was pumping blood from his neck to the rhythm of his heart, but less and less blood squirted out with each heartbeat.
Then I looked at the second bed and studied Carlos again. He looked like a person who'd gone insane from the pain I had just inflicted. His guttural muffled yells were getting louder as he tried to spit out all the extra blood blocking his airway.
If I didn't cover his mouth, he would start screaming, and the doctors would come rushing in and see what I did. So, I took off my coat as I ran toward him and tried smoothing his mouth by throwing it over him.
I was afraid to even touch him now. And then the screaming started again. While he was covered, I looked around the room frantically, wondering what to do.
How do I stop the noise?
And then I saw it near the corner of the room, an appliance kept there as a convenience for the visitors. I ran to it and put Carlos in it, shutting the glass door behind me. I was hoping to muffle the screams, so the doctors wouldn't be able to hear Carlos inside it.
I looked around the room. How would I explain the trail of blood to Marta when she came out of the bathroom, the separation of his head from his body to the doctors, or any of this???
I was stunned.
And then I could hear Carlos yelling from inside, and he was getting louder. I wanted to plug my ears so I didn't have to hear that horrible inhuman screaming. And I stared at him from the outside.
Was he screaming to try and tell the doctors what I had done? Was he trying to stay alive just long enough for them to find me guilty?
And then it dawned on me…you can cook things in a microwave!!!
I had heard an urban legend about a woman who put her poodle in the microwave to dry it after its bath, and it exploded.
I wouldn't take the chance. So, I set the timer for 15 seconds.
I didn't want to leave it on long enough for Carlos' head to explode. I just wanted him to suffer as much as humanely possible before he died.
Now, Carlos looked terrified.
I pressed the "START" button on the microwave and did not open the door again until that muffled screaming stopped.
Epilogue
I cleaned up all the blood as best I could after I put his head back on the bed with his body and covered it with a sheet from the first bed before Marta came out.
When the doctors and nurses saw me walk out with Marta, they looked at me like I was the one who was missing his head.
I told the doctors I could not stand by and watch a friend I loved as a brother suffer so horribly.
And the state of agony he was in was more than any human being should have to endure. Then I left without further explanation. When they found him, they thought I had performed a "mercy killing."
I didn't think the doctors would ever believe me after they examined Carlos again, so I kept waiting for the police to arrive and arrest me after I left the hospital, but they never did.
No one who saw me leaves the room doubted I was in shock. I don't think they doubted I had lost my mind, at least temporarily.
Sometimes when I visit my cousin Marta, now a ward of the state, I see her walking around in her nightgown, carrying something in her pillowcase.
I don't know what's in it, I never asked, but it's about the size and shape of a human head, and sometimes you can hear her voice echo down the halls when she sings a song about a man she used to love named "Carlos."