the case study ~ camren

Memory

With Karla in solitary confinement, I know it will be a while before I get to see her again. Although it may create a bias, I decide to spend the time looking over the Cabello family's history in crime, ensuring that I gather my information from various sources, ruling out anything that conflicts with any other source.

This proves to be difficult at first as my sources largely consist of national news coverage which can often exaggerate with their carefully selected words; it's no secret that most media outlets seem to thrive on mongered fear. Eventually, though, I find a—somewhat dubious for the fact that they seem to praise the Cabellos—site that offers real footage, captured by CCTV or police body cameras, of each time she and her parents had escaped the clutches of justice. I must say, despite having heard all of the stories before of just how cruel and, frankly, intelligent the Cabellos were when it came to crime, seeing it unfold on camera seems to make it all the more real. All I felt in my heart was pity for the two Cabello daughters that were raised in this life, my patient included.

One video, in particular, has captured my attention this evening. It shows Alejandro, I presume, along with seven-or-so accomplices. All of them are wearing animal masks to host a high-end bank heist here in Miami. Despite the fact that the crime is rather below his level judging from the other videos ranging from arson that destroyed his supposed rival's restaurant front to clips that come together to show that he runs an illegal drug cartel larger than any I've ever heard of, everything seems normal at first glance. It's your average movie stickup, with hostages gathered in small groups, each one with at least one guard to prevent their escape or retaliation. There's no audio on the tape, or at least not on the version uploaded to LFBlood.com, but the body language of the team of thieves clearly shows that they're barking orders to one another and the hostages.

My gut, however, tells me that normality is not the case. I watch the video three, four, maybe five times, paying attention to another criminal each time, before I notice it. While four of the accomplices are working on bagging up as much cash as they can, Alejandro (identified by his leader-like behaviour, the slight limp he always seems to sport, and the snarling wolf mask on his head which reminds me of Karla's previous statement about alphas biting) and another, smaller figure are standing in the back near the largest group of hostages. The smaller of the two, wearing a white rabbit mask that covers their whole head, holds a gun out to one of the hostage's heads. I can see how their hand is trembling despite how they grip their wrist in an attempt to keep it still as Alejandro and the hostage speak to them, both growing more passionate with time. The hostage barely moves his right hand from the back of his head and the rabbit pulls the trigger, thrusting a bullet into his skull. Immediately, the gun falls to the ground as they look down to their hands as if in shock of what they'd done, falling back a step. At the gunshot, the team of criminals begin to flee. Alejandro backhands the back of the rabbit's head, snapping them out of their daze. They make it out of the back entrance of the bank before the police come rushing in through the front.

It isn't difficult to identify the rabbit as Karla—or whatever she wishes to be called. Her frame is about right and as they rushed through the exit, a long dark braid fell from within the mask, and it doesn't quite make sense for anyone else to be in her position. This is evidently a training mission of sorts. That, or a test; the only question is whether she passed or failed.

The video replays in my mind over and over until I return to the prison a week later, when I'm informed that my patient has been released from solitary. I'm thinking over it still when I reach the interrogation room, surprised to find an officer waiting outside of it. She smiles when she spots me, hurrying forth to meet me a few steps before the door.

"Can I help you?" I ask, frowning slightly at her chipper demeanour.

She clears her throat and nods, her smile fading until there's no hint that it was ever there at all. "You're Karla's therapist, right?"