THE DEVIL’S BREATH

“You’re grandma gave everything away. Her mother’s jewelry is all gone. Everything in her safe is gone. She’s gone crazy, how could she give it all away so easily?” my mother said as she entered my room. That’s how I woke up on a Saturday morning, way too early for my brain to process what was happening. “What do you mean she gave it all away? To who?When?” I asked. It made no sense. Why would my grandma who has nothing but her mother's jewellery give it all away...nothing sounded right.

Something you need to understand about my relationship with my grandma is that we have always been close. Some might even say I am the closest to my grandma, we have a special relationship and it has always been like that. Since I can remember it’s been us two against the world. But that was not the same for my mom, my grandma's only daughter. She was the only girl in a house with three brothers, but never had a balanced relationship with her mom. “She is the absolute best grandma in the world, but she was just not present as a mother...” how my mom would sometimes explain her complicated relationship with my grandma.

With that said, we’ve always been close. Even when I moved away and far, we still kept up talking and texting every day. So how did I miss the sign?

Like I said, we texted and talked most days. It was weird when we didn’t. So after hearing my mom accuse my absolute best friend/grandma I felt protective and in need to defend my grandma, even after knowing she was being accused of having gone crazy. I felt like a detective because I just knew something didn’t add up. I know my grandma from tip to bottom and she needed my help, so I started searching.

I grabbed my phone and went to our last text conversation and realized she hadn’t called me back or texted back since Thursday morning...why hadn’t I checked back with her? Why hadn’t I called again? It was weird for her not to respond. She also hadn’t texted her usual “sueña con los angelitos” goodnight text she sent every night with a couple of heart emojis...first evidence that something was wrong. Second: she would NEVER give up her mothers jewellery if she didn’t have to. She loved them and wore them every day. She had already told my sister and I which of her rings we would get. What exactly happened? Was she possessed? Drugged? I went to google and found my answer…

“No está loca, la drogaron!!” I shouted to my mom after minutes of researching. “She was drugged mom. I knew it!!!! The drug is burundanga or scopolamine and often called “Devil’s Breath,” I explained to my mom. After convincing her that she was actually drugged, she called her brother who lived closer to my grandma and told him to take her to the doctor to get a drug test...but only to realize it lasts hours in your system making it the perfect drug that leaves no trace behind. Not only does it put the victim into a zombie-like state but also makes them tell the truth and nothing but the truth. Victims lose their memory and free will, making them do anything from handing over their house keys to completely emptying their bank account.

After doing a bit more research I discovered that this drug can come in a powder-like form which the victim only has to smell to get into the zombie state. It has no taste or smell, making it very invisible.

So what happened? My grandma woke up on Thursday morning and headed to her usual swimming session. She was walking along the park, it was sunny; a normal yet beautiful day. Then a very tall woman suddenly fell in front of her, and my grandma out of the kindness in her heart helped the woman up. But when she was lifting her up she felt like the tall woman was getting close to her face. Once she was up she told my grandma if they could sit on a bench that was close to them so she could see if she was hurt. My grandma led her to the bench and sat next to her. They started talking and soon another tall lady with a raspy voice arrived. Both the ladies seemed to know each other, so my grandma stood up to leave but was told they desperately needed her help. They came up with a story about how they needed to get to her bank as soon as possible and take out all her money...but all to help them. Off to the bank they went, both ladies on each side of my grandma. They were always touching my grandma and smothering her. Once in the bank they told my grandma to say they were her family. Which my grandma did without any thought. The bank informed them that sadly my grandma's money was on pause...

Why was it on pause? Well because a month earlier after talking to my grandma and visiting we decided to ask my parents if they could change my grandma's bank to the same one we use so that we could help her manage her money better. My parents listened and agreed, so while her account was being transferred her money was on a hold!

My grandma left the bank disappointed with two even more disappointed women along her side. “Don’t worry, there is still a way to help,” they told her. So she did as she was told, happily I might add, and invited them back to her apartment like they suggested. She told the security guards that these two ladies were her daughter and friend, no one questioned anything. My grandma now in her apartment offers these wonderful ladies some refreshing Coke while they think of what to do next. “Do you have a safe?” they asked her. Of course my grandma told them, while already walking to show them where it was hidden. “But I don’t know my code, I always forget but my oldest son knows it. I could call and ask him. I’ll just tell him I have dinner to go to, he knows I love wearing my mother’s jewellery,” my grandma told them while they sipped their Coke and took intel of all that was inside my grandmas’ small apartment. My grandma called, entered the code, and showed them her treasures. They said the jewelry would help them. So she started giving them all her jewelry and important things. Being the hostess that she is she even offered to wrap the jewelry in socks so they wouldn’t get damaged. Once they had all of the family's earlooms they left my grandma's apartment and wished her well. As my grandma was cleaning up she noticed that there was a ring they had forgotten/missed, so she ran down to the lobby and out in the street looked for them to give them the ring they had forgotten only to find they were gone.

That ring that they forgot that day...is now mine, the ring she always told me she would pass down to me is the only piece of jewelry that was not taken.

After she cleaned up the apartment as best as she could, she fell asleep and had nightmares the whole night. She woke up with a hungover and blank mind. She felt scared and was filled with anxiety. Why had she had so many nightmares? Why is the safe open? Had she been robbed, my grandma thought? Until she remembered the ladies. The tall ladies. That whole Friday after waking up she felt grooby, foggy, anxiety, confusion, and most of all alone.

She was alone in her apartment trying to figure out what she had done. She fell asleep a couple of times throughout the day, and would always have nightmares along with sleep. I can imagine she felt strangled by darkness and guilt.

“I am the so stupid. You need to take my money. Never let me have responsibility. I am so dumb. I gave everything away, everything. And I did it myself. I can’t believe I could be so dumb, stupid, naive, I am so worthless,” she told my mom Saturday morning.

And that is how I discovered one of the deadliest drugs in the world. It comes from a flower that is extremely common in Latin America, so common that we have one in our very own garden! They are often called “hanging bells.” The drug is known to be used in older people since they are often alone, among various others. The amount one gives to the victim is said to be crucial, because it can lead to a quick death; the one that is drugging needs to calculate how much of the drug the victim has to inhale or take in order to be under the spell and not end up taking too much which would result fatal.

After a few weeks, when I felt my grandma was doing better.

After the accident she went into a depressive state because of all the guilt she felt since she didn’t understand it hadn’t been her fault; she had been drugged!

But one day she seemed calmer, better. So I asked her if she remembered touching something of theirs or anything that would give us more details. She started thinking and told me, “they both were so tall, raspy voiced, scarfs that covered their mouth most of the time, and huge hands. I remembered that when we walked out of the bank, as I was going down the steps they held me on each side thinking I would fall, but I told them I was fine. They glanced at each other and asked each other if they had put too much, which one ended the conversation by stating in a low whisper, “look she can go down the steps mostly on her own, she’s strong. She’s still good.” My grandma took a sigh and continued, “ I thought they wanted to be helpful, I am such a fool. Oh I also found some white powder on my bed sheet, I started shaking and threw them straight into the washing machine.” To this I responded trying my hardest to convince her, “and you still don’t believe me that you were drugged? Grandma, do you know this has happened to so many other people and they also felt guilty and sad and confused and alone, but you aren’t. You have them and me. You did nothing wrong except be a nice person. Do you know you could’ve been killed? I was reading that a grandmother in colombia opened the peephole to see who was knocking, they blew the dust in her face...but too much so she died right there. What would I do without you? So you got to know it was not your fault, no one blames, and we are just happy you are alive. I can tell you more about the drug if you want?”

So I told her. I told her about the VICE documentary I watched on it. I told her the side effects it had, which she had and was still experiencing. I told her about the other victims. About the victims that also had their family heirlooms stolen and felt a guilt so huge that melted them to the ground. I told her about it all. I also told her that the “tall, rusky voiced” women were actually two, very strong men disguised as women, we had finally gotten the elevator cameras from the building. So she truly had been drugged and could have been in more danger. As I told her more facts, stories, examples...well she began to realize it hadn’t been her fault. She truly just had been a nice person, doing something nice.

P.S. Research about this drug and how to prevent from getting into a situation like this! Example: If someone asks for directions, they hand you a map, you bring it up to your face to see...well that would be...deadly.