September 20th, 1980
It’s been seven years since the coup. That’s seven years since my family has felt safe in our own country. Seven years since my childhood was abruptly cut short. Seven years since our country turned in upon itself. How much longer can we survive like this? How much longer can this government keep disappearing its own people? I fear that I am losing hope that Chile will ever be free again.
Last week Pinochet installed his own constitution. Does he really believe that he can act under the guise of legitimacy? That the people of this country don’t see him for the tyrant that he is? The horrors that you hear about those that are taken are almost too terrible to speak, though someone must speak them so they are heard. I’m scared that I will never live in a free nation, like the one I was born into.
I’ve started living with Tomas, but am often fearful that something will happen to him. His ambition and ideals may very well be the end for him. As it was for his father- October will mark 2 years since he was disappeared. Nevertheless, I know, as does Tomas, that if we suppress our own voices then we will be playing along with Pinochet. So we must keep speaking, even if we must do its quietly, in whispers.
I am grateful that my family is alive and together, as I know that is not the case for many. I often think about those that I knew from school, those that I haven’t seen in so many years. What has come of the girls in my class? Of Sofia, whom I haven’t seen in nearly 6 years. We were once like sisters. Will I ever see her again? So much has changed in these seven years. If I did see her tomorrow would I even recognize her? Would she recognize me?