Footage From The Office of Maria Baez, Therapist
[Enter Paulina, in a warmly-lit room full of bookshelves, windows, and paintings. Paulina’s therapist, Maria, sits at her desk]
MARIA: Please sit, Paulina. How are you today?
PAULINA: Fine. On my way here, I heard on the radio that they granted another person amnesty in the Commission. It’s baffling to me that they’re letting the same people that tore my fingernails off walk on the same street as me.
MARIA: I know.
PAULINA: Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad the truth is out there, but they’re not doing anything about individual justice. The Commission was so focused on the collective “reconciliation” that all of the victims became numbers—not to mention the fact that none of us were consulted during the process.
MARIA: Do you feel like justice was delivered for you?
PAULINA: I don’t know. Some things to me feel irreparable. Every time I walk outside and hear Schubert playing outside of someone’s car, I see a rod and a pair of pliers in our garage, or I smell a fragrance reminiscent of Doctor Miranda’s, it all takes me back to that cold, dark cellar, laying flat on the metal table, praying to the same God that brought me there. I can’t even turn the lights off in my room. I want to forget but I can’t—even sixteen years later.
MARIA: Who is Doctor Miranda?
PAULINA: He’s the Doctor that tortured me.
MARIA: He revealed his real identity to you?
PAULINA: I discovered it myself. My husband had an encounter with him, and I was able to piece together his smell, skin, and voice. There was no doubt that it was him.
MARIA: You smelled and felt him? How did that end up happening?
PAULINA: If you don’t mind, I would rather not talk about my torturer. I hate to reflect on that.
MARIA: You’re right. I’m so sorry.
She takes a few seconds to write notes on Paulina. She wonders about her relationship with Doctor Miranda and her interactions with him, but she decides to hold any questions for Paulina’s sake.
How has your relationship with Gerardo been? What is it like being so close to the Head of the Commission?
PAULINA: It’s been fine. During the Commission, he was so concerned with collective truth and justice that it felt like he could rarely care about me as an individual. I hated the fact that when he looked at me, he saw just another victim that he would talk about in a conference room with all of his associates.
Her voice begins to crack. She pulls a tissue box close to her.
He cheated on me when I was gone. He claimed it was because he thought I was gone forever. I don’t know. I don’t think he sees me as the wife he loves anymore. Ever since our interaction with Dr. Miranda, whenever I speak with Gerardo, everything he says has an undertone of concern like I’m some nut-case. But I’m not. I’m not crazy, Maria. I just wanted justice for myself, and I knew Gerardo couldn’t do that himself in the encounter with Dr. Miranda.
MARIA: What do you mean, justice? What did you do? You don’t have to tell, but I do want to remind you that you’re protected under patient-therapist confidentiality.
PAULINA: Okay. I’ll keep it short. One night last year, Gerardo had a flat tire. He got the attention of a car on the side of the road for some help, and the man drove him home. The man left, but came back about an hour later, claiming he wanted to return the spare tire left in his car and recognized Gerardo’s name on the radio. In a gesture of gratitude, Gerardo allowed him to sleep over. I was in another room, but I recognized his voice. And sure enough, the man in our house was Roberto Miranda, the doctor that tortured me.
MARIA: Oh, Paulina! Did Gerardo know who he was? Did you tell him?
PAULINA: I figured I would take matters into my own hands before telling him. I knew his fixation on rationality would prevent him from believing me. So, I knocked Roberto out, tied him up, and gave him a taste of his own medicine. We don’t need to go into details, but I ended up tricking him into confession.
MARIA: Paulina, you –
PAULINA: Yes, I tortured him. I gave him just a hint as to what it’s like to have your senses pushed above and beyond their limits. I should’ve used that rod…
Maria looks down at her notebook, but doesn’t write anything down.
MARIA: Do you feel like that experience changed anything for you?
PAULINA: I think it changed something. He confessed without the intention of confessing, and that makes it hard for the confession to mean anything. He got on his knees and begged for me to let him go, but he wouldn’t repent. He was so close! So close to the perfect image of repentance! But he couldn’t do it. So I let him walk away. He’s somewhere on these streets, associating my smell, Schubert, and metal rods with torture in the same way I do. And while I still cannot turn the lights off in my room, I rest just a little better knowing that Dr. Miranda is one step closer to understanding the way he destroyed me.