Andrés Villarreal

My Best Friend Provoked Me Until I’d Had Enough

I’d spent years swallowing her taunts and playing the patient friend. That August afternoon, on her balcony facing the sea, something inside me broke.

Alone with Him in the Club That Afternoon

Three days later, he got to the club early. She arrived last, closed the door, and the click of that latch was the only sign they needed.

The Night They Sold Me in the Village Storehouse

Four men paid to use me in a storehouse. My daughter controlled the door. That night I stopped being who I was.