Wash 20

Evening. Deep in the jungles of Guatemala.

Sylvia sprinted through the dense foliage,

her breath ragged as she ducked under a thick curtain of vines.

She’s literally RUNNING.

The damp air clung to her skin, mixing with the sweat

trickling down her temple.

Overhead, the moon was barely visible through the jungle canopy,

its silvery glow flickering between the swaying branches.

Something is NOT RIGHT.

She almost blurted out.

The forest pulsed with life—distant shrieks of night creatures,

the rustling of unseen predators, and the occasional splash of something

heavy slipping into the murky river nearby.

Leaves glistened with the day’s humidity,

the ground slick with mud and decaying plants.

Every step was a gamble, a chance to either escape

or fall prey to the darkness pressing in from all sides.

Sylvia stumbled but caught herself just before she fell.

Her heart pounded as she glanced over her shoulder,

her eyes wide and searching.

No one. Not yet.

She exhaled sharply, forcing herself to move forward.

Finally, she found a massive Ceiba tree,

its roots twisting out of the earth like ancient fingers.

She pressed her back against it, steadying her breath.

Then she squatted down.

Just as she was about to pull her pants down,

a sharp crack of a branch shattered the moment.

Sylvia FROZE.

With lightning speed, she pulled out her gun and

aimed it toward the sound.

Her fingers trembled against the trigger

as she squeezed her eyes shut, muttering,

“One more move bitch and I’ll blow your brains out.”

A hand grabbed the gun.

Sylvia nearly screamed—until she saw her.

The Guatemalan waitress.

Her girlfriend.

“¡Mierda! You scared me!” Sylvia hissed.

“I was worried sick about you,” her girlfriend snapped.

“The men have no clue where you are AND

there are reports from town that says THEY are

Searching for us HERE….what the heck Sylvia,

why are you HERE?—”

Sylvia groaned. “Can’t a girl have a moment of privacy?!

Does anyone has to know what I’m up to?

Her stomach growls. DAMN.

“Must’ve been something I ate.

You keep making those goddamn tough ribs.”

The girlfriend rolled her eyes, turning her back.

“Fine. Sorry. I over exaggerate. I’m just

worried sick of you. Ok, just Hurry, do your deed, quickly.”

Sylvia huffed. “Too late. The moment’s gone.”

She stood up, wiping nonexistent dust off her pants.

“Anything else?”

The girlfriend turned, this time her expression was serious. “Who’s Monica?”

Sylvia blinked. “Monica who?”

Her girlfriend handed her the phone—Sylvia’s own phone.

“You left this behind. And guess who’s been calling you fifteen times today?”

she shrugged. “Monica. Fucking Monica Sylvia! Why?”

Sylvia hesitated, “I don’t know…how should I know, I can’t read her mind.”

The girlfriend stepped closer, “Sylvia why are you avoiding my question,

who is Monica?”

Sylvia lied, “I don’t know, maybe she’s just a random scammer. I don’t know

any Monica.”

The girlfriend snaps angrily, “I’m not stupid Sylvia. Are you two timing me?”

Before Sylvia can further react, she felt something.

And then it happened.

Sylvia felt her stomach churn for an entirely new reason.

Panic crept in. Then—

BAM!

Her body betrayed her.

Right there. In front of her girlfriend.

While they’re in the middle of this Monica situation,

Sylvia just DID IT.

The Guatemalan waitress shrieked,

stumbling backward. “¡¿Qué carajo, Sylvia?!”

Sylvia stood frozen.

“Look—technically—I was already squatting BEFORE you popped

in here and Monica bombed me.”

Her girlfriend gagged, waving a hand in front of her nose.

Sylvia shuffled and ran toward the river, her dignity in shambles.

She stripped down and plunged into the dark water,

resurfacing few minutes later with a dramatic gasp.

The moonlight shimmered against

the ripples as she threaded in place.

The evening was beautiful.

Peaceful.

Her girlfriend, still recovering from the scent shock,

had set up a small fire, boiling tea in a tin cup.

She sat cross-legged, eyes distant.

She stared at the phone.

Sylvia waded out of the water, dripping wet,

quickly put on her clothes,

wrapped herself in a jacket, and that’s WHEN

she saw THEM.

Night shadows.

ALIVE.

And they’re moving.

Seven armed men are slowly creeping their

way towards her girlfriend

SHIT.

DEFINITELY SHIT HAPPENS

at the most SHITTY Possible places.

Like HERE. In the middle of nowhere HERE.

Something clicked inside Sylvia.

The past snap back.

SHE FOUND HERSELF back in the middle of the jungle,

with her girlfriend, tied up, guns to their heads.

The leader of the cartel sneered.

Both Tied up, her girlfriend on the verge of panic,

surrounded by thirty heavily armed men—The Cartel.

What can a girl do other than, SCREAM?

And they did. The men just laughed.

They’re in a fucking jungle.

Where no souls get lost.

Her girlfriend whispered urgently,

"I told you, Sylvia, it was dangerous to sneak into the jungle.

We could have just taken the damn plane."

Sylvia rolled her eyes. "How was I supposed to know?

I’ve never been to Guatemala."

A hard kick to her gut sent her gasping.

"Bitch, that hurts!" Sylvia wheezed, glaring at the cartel boss who just kicked

the shit out of her.”

The boss sneered.

"Let’s start with the older one. She’s screaming trouble."

Sylvia squinted. "Excuse me—older one? Really?"

The boss cocked his gun, and in unison, thirty other guns

clicked, all pointed at her.

Sylvia scoffed. "Unbelievable. Of all the reasons to execute me,

you pick age? What about beauty?

Quick fact check—you people don’t know shit about life."

The cartel members exchanged confused glances.

"All my life, I’ve lived with a son who washes clothes every damn day.

I breathe bleach morning, noon, and night.

And yeah even when my so called loser boyfriend Miguel was

fucking me, guess why I can’t focus? Yeah…the bleach is the

mother of all distraction.

And do you know what bleach does to your brain?"

“Removed the stains?” one cartel guy quipped.

Sylvia took a dramatic pause. "It sharpens you."

The boss frowned. "What?"

Sylvia grinned. "That’s right.

Bleach is the reason I’m your biggest BITCH right now."

More confusion.

A few cartel members shifted uncomfortably.

And then the boss laughed—a deep, mocking laugh.

His men followed.

Everyone cackled at Sylvia.

They all laughed at her.

Sylvia’s girlfriend started muttering

the Novena she memorized

from grade school.

DAMN.

Holy mother of Fuck.

She can’t even remember the

proper phrases.

She swallowed hard.

The Bitter pill of Fear.

But Sylvia wasn’t deterred.

She took a bold step forward, still tied up.

She released her rope in one snap.

Everyone hushed. The Cartel Boss frozen.

What the FUCK is going on right now?

"Look at you. A bunch of grown men running around the jungle

like animals. For what? Cash?" She let out a big, hearty,

terrifying laugh.

It was CREEPY.

She was Creepy.

Some cartel members visibly flinched.

The cartel boss snapped his neck. This woman was trying him.

"Cash isn’t a goal, you idiots! The goal is—" She inhaled deeply—

"FREEEEEEDOOOOOMMMM!!!"

The jungle itself seemed to shake.

The cartel gang looks up as leaves suddenly fell on their faces.

Awakening them.

It’s like they found the Holy grail of FUCK.

And Sylvia led them to that.

The cartel members stood frozen.

Sylvia continued, "That’s right. Freedom is the reason why

you’re out here tonight. Freedom is the reason why you're

holding onto that gun like it’s your last ticket to life.

Freedom is the reason why you’re breathing right now,

because you will fight for your last breath"

The cartel boss pushed Sylvia like trash.

"Why are you all listening to her?! She’s mind-fucking all of you!!"

Sylvia took a deep breath and, in one swift motion, grabbed a fistful of soil.

She raised it high. "This soil," she declared,

"this soil is your land. This is what you’re really fighting for.

Not just for yourself. Not just for your wife or your son and daughter,

but also MORE importantly for your boyfriends and fuck buddies!"

The cartel boss blinked. "...What?"

Before he could regain control, Sylvia’s girlfriend—still tied up—began to clap.

"Freedom. Freedom. Freedom."

The cartel boss’s face contorted in rage.

"No. No! I’ve seen this before! It’s—it’s at a campaign video!

This is not Tiktok, this is…real Life…."

But it was too late. A slow clap emerged from the crowd.

Someone joined in. Then another.

Soon, the entire cartel was clapping and chanting: "Freedom! Freedom! Freedom! Freedom!"

And then, to the cartel boss’s utter horror,

Sylvia reemerged, standing tall—wearing a golden evening gown.

"WHAT THE FUCK—" The cartel boss nearly collapsed.

"HOW?! HOW DID SHE CHANGE OUTFITS?! And for what????"

The chanting grew louder.

Sylvia lifted the clump of soil higher like a sacred relic.

The crowd cheered.

Then one of the cartel members hesitantly asked,

"But...what do we do about our thingy?"

Sylvia blinked. "Thingy?"

The man exaggerated his eyes.

"The thingyyy! The very reason why we’re doing this cartel thing!"

Sylvia quipped, "Oh, the thingy... yeah... that thingy.

Well, here’s the thing... that thingy is just a distraction.

It’s the BLEACH that blinded all of you from the truth.

There’s a bigger story here. It’s the story of a young bride who just

married a handsome man. They dream of building a house,

raising kids, sending them to college—not just fly-by-night schools,

but real universities that change lives. Where they can get

real jobs that pays real living wages that you can

actually lived on."

The cartel men nodded solemnly.

One wiped away a tear.

"This is also the story of an older guy who can’t afford

his hospital bills. Everything is so expensive. His wife has to make

the painful choice of foregoing his surgery.

To the point that she used her kitchen knife

to cut her husband’s bloody thigh. Because in this country,

health care is only for the rich. Exclusive to those who can afford it.

This is also a story of a young man. He’s your son.

He’s all your son. This young guy wants only one thing in life.

The dignity of waking up each morning

next to the one he loves. But guess what,

In this country, that love is a crime.

Who are they to judge. who he loves, who he fucks.

This is also a story about your daughter.

She’s pregnant.

She was gang rape by the guys

standing next to you.

It was not her fault.

She was not given a choice.

She’s still young. She’s not yet ready for this.

She should have the right to make

decisions that concerns her health and her life.

Nobody should tell her that she can’t.

We are fighting for those stories.

We are fighting for those dreams.

We are fighting for our right to breathe.

Because with FREEDOM, we can all breathe!

This soil here? This is freedom. This is our land."

Sylvia held a clump of soil in her hand.

A deep silence followed. Until—

"Wait a minute." A cartel member squinted.

"That dirt doesn’t look like soil. It smells like... poo."

Sylvia locked eyes with him. "It doesn’t matter whether this is soil or poop!"

And to the shock of everyone,

she shoved it into her mouth.

as she yelled Freedoooooommmmmm!!!!!!!

All the boss saw was her poo covered teeth.

It was INSANE.

The cartel boss nearly passed out,

his soul momentarily leaving his body.

Then he snapped back to reality.

Rage coursed through him. He aimed his gun at Sylvia.

"This ends. Now."

But to his absolute horror, Sylvia grabbed the barrel of the gun

and shoved it right into her mouth.

Panic set in.

And then—

Sylvia laughed. A deep, maniacal laugh that grew into an earth-shaking cackle.

She TOTALLY Lost it.

Before the boss could react—BOOM.

Sylvia’s gun is

aimed directly at his face.

What the Fuck.

Sylvia tilted her head. "With freedom... comes painful choices."

The cartel boss collapsed as Sylvia pulled the trigger.

The Republic of Sylvia was born.

All the Cartel men kneeled in front of Sylvia.

Her girlfriend kissed her.

Sylvia snapped back to reality.

Bullets whizzed past as she literally flew through the air,

catching them with her bare hands.

FIVE BULLETS. SNAP. CAUGHT.

In mid-air, she bit into a bullet ONE at a time and spat it back,

killing FIVE men instantly.

She shifted to the TWO remaining guys.

As she landed, she grabbed the gun of the confused guy

and fired it at the other shocked guy.

And back to HIM

his last memory was his mom warning him that

women past her age is his curse.

It’s his end game.

He should have listened to his mom.

Stayed with the dude who loved him.

The jungle fell silent. All threats eliminated.

Sylvia sat down next to her girlfriend, panting.

Splattered blood on her face.

Her girlfriend, still glued to her phone,

barely glanced up.

"Sylvia, I’m asking you one last time—who the fuck is MONICA?"

Sylvia sighed. "Monica… she’s Teddy’s mom."

Her girlfriend stood up, barely noticing

Sylvia’s blood-covered face.

"What the fuck? This is a total fuck. Does he know?"

Sylvia snapped. "What was I supposed to do?

Ditch Teddy in the trash? She was my best friend.

When she got pregnant, she stayed at my place to hide from her parents.

And to my shock, she just left after she popped Teddy out.

Now I’m stuck with somebody I don’t even know.

Months later, a check came. And soon, it became regular.

With a promise to keep her secret, I cashed out on Teddy.

Was I a bad person?

Did I take advantage of the situation?

Or did life just totally screwed me up, leaving me with no choice

but to stick with one sin:

I lied to Teddy."

Her girlfriend's eyes softened, but confusion lingered.

She sighed. "I still think he should know."

As she got up, Sylvia closed her eyes,

about to warn her that there were seven bloodied

bodies sprawled around them.

The last thing she could do was produce a bloodcurdling scream.

But when Sylvia opened her eyes—

Her girlfriend was back by the fire spot,

sipping her tea calmly.

Like nothing happened.

Like anything MONICA was not said.

To Sylvia’s shock, it had taken her girlfriend

less than a second to dig seven holes

and ditch all seven bodies.

UNBELIEVABLE.

They’re totally matched up.

Even the evening heavens agrees.