(When bullying destroys a life)

One year and 5 months have passed since Nieves, victim for months of brutal bullying and cyberbullying, decided that she did not want to continue. That afternoon on 28 December 2021, everything stopped in Navas de San Juan, a small town in the Comarca de El Condado in the province of Jaén, in Andalusia (Spain). From that day until today, more than 500 days have passed and the family is still waiting for the Justice to give them the answer they are longing for: WHO DID IT?

Nieves and her family had done the right thing, what citizens are asked to do when they have a problem: to knock on the door of Justice and the Security Forces and Bodies to ask for help. Nieves did so on four occasions, writing down in four reports the nightmare she had been suffering for months and also the identity of the person she suspected. And the worst thing is that many people around her knew what was happening, but decided to leave her totally alone, isolated, humiliated and with an unjust feeling of guilt.

It is true, there were even those who questioned the veracity of her account. But there were also those who, although they could have provided information or their own testimony, which might have helped to put an end to Nieves’ nightmare, preferred to remain silent. The reasons are known only to those who are slaves to that same silence, as complicit as it is cowardly. And Nieves could bear it no longer.

Since then, despite the immense pain, her entire family has continued to fight tirelessly so that, hopefully, sooner rather than later, everything will be cleared up and whoever is behind all this senseless pain that destroyed the life of a girl of only 20 years of age will be held criminally accountable. However, to this day, they have been unable to do anything but wait patiently, wait until the despair that only perfect storms create.

The demands of those working for the Administration of Justice in the various Courts and Tribunals throughout the country who are affected by chronic congestion and work overload are understandable. No one disputes that the right to strike is a fundamental right recognised by the Spanish Constitution. But, equally, the family also has the right to have the justice system assist them and give them an answer as quickly as possible after the painful loss of Nieves. Despite the pain, they still believe in Justice and they need Justice to be able to answer that other question that torments them so much: WHY?

Meanwhile, those who believe themselves unpunished, or without any responsibility for what happened, continue with their lives totally oblivious to the pain of an entire family. A family that can barely stay afloat but only cling to the hope that, very soon, the time will come when they can freely say: «THIS IS WHAT HAPPENED».

When that time comes, whoever was behind the whole nightmare that Nieves suffered will answer without a shadow of a doubt. And those who could have prevented such a painful outcome and deliberately chose not to do so, leaving Nevis to her fate and subjected to the criminal mockery created at the hands of those who decided to destroy her entire life, will also be held accountable. Let there be no doubt, when the time comes, all those who acted and all those who decided to do nothing and remain vilely silent will be held accountable.

Until that day arrives, the family of Nieves will continue with admirable fortitude to vindicate the name of their daughter so that no one forgets it. They will draw the necessary strength from their yearning for Justice, never for revenge, and hoping that their pain will never be experienced again by any other family. They will do so out of deep love for that smile, now eternal, which illuminates them like the most beautiful star in the firmament.

And under the light of that star they ask themselves… FOR WHEN?

JUSTICE FOR NIEVES!

✨🕯️❤️🦋❤️🕯️✨

One year has passed since your passing. In all this time, and despite the immense pain, your family has not stopped fighting to clear your memory and demand justice. You suffered a real ordeal in full view of the whole world, but nobody said anything. You asked for help by desperately knocking on the door of Justice but, unfortunately, you couldn’t take it any longer.

I remember when I saw you the first time. I arrived in Navas de San Juan on 15 November with the intention of meeting you in a quiet area or in a café. But everything was closed so, in the end, I came to your house. There I was welcomed by your mother, Loli, and your sister, Mayte, who was breastfeeding your nephew, little Marcos. I also met Juan, your father, that same afternoon. 

I will never forget the look on your mother’s face and her smile of gratitude for coming to your house. After offering me a coffee, she explained to me, step by step, everything you were going through. You had done the right thing, the right thing to do, to report to the authorities what you had been suffering for months. 

Soon after, you arrived. I don’t know if I made a good impression on you or not when you saw me there with the documentation on the table but, perhaps instinctively, I told you what I always tell everyone I assist to try to help them: «Hello, I’m Luis. Don’t be scared, but do you want a hug?» And you answered me: «OK!«

You had a smile like your mother’s, clean and pure, although your eyes reflected a deep sadness for everything they were doing to you. A sadness that, the second time I saw you, showed itself in the form of tears in those shy eyes of an innocent girl who had never hurt anyone, who didn’t deserve at all what they were doing to her because no one deserves it. A sadness that, in the end, took over you completely.

I reviewed all the documentation: the three complaints you had filed, the screenshots, the injury report from when you had to be treated for the anxiety attack and everything related to the nightmare you were going through. In the third complaint, the one that caused you to need medical assistance, you wrote down the name of the person you suspected might be behind everything you were suffering. On top of all this, you would file a fourth complaint the next day. Four complaints in total. But there was no response, or at least not in time. 

Not only had they published your phone number on contact websites, they had also put up posters in the streets of the town defaming you; they sent emails, both to companies and to your local council, in which they pretended to be you; and, finally, they impersonated you on a social network from which they made threats, insulted other people and even uploaded a photo announcing the death of your mother. Only a twisted person would be capable of doing all that. You even wrote to the fake account yourself, asking what they wanted from you. The reply was: «Yes, yes ☠️». It doesn’t get much more macabre than that. 

The person (or persons) behind all this had cruelly decided to harm you from the false anonymity that people think there is on the internet and social media. Only a criminal mentality could orchestrate all of this in such a conscientious and mean-spirited way. And not only that, they also managed to get your «friends» to turn their backs on you and even the security forces themselves to doubt you. But, no, you never lied. Your story was true, it was always true, because you always told the truth. But nobody else gave it any importance, or at least not enough. 

One day you received a summons from the court. You were summoned on 21 December to ratify your third complaint. You had never heard anything about the other two complaints you had filed. However, it seemed that, albeit very slowly, everything was beginning to move. 

Your mother and father accompanied you. I also went to La Carolina, the municipality where the court that is investigating everything is located, to be with you so that you would be calmer but, due to the anti-Covid19 protocol, nobody could enter with you for the act of ratification. You were carrying all the documentation in a bag but, in the end, it was not necessary to present it because you only had to say that what was happening to you, what you reflected in the third complaint, was true because your version was always the same and never changed. That morning you had to wait too long, even by WhatsApp you told me: «I’m still waiting for the judge, they don’t even know where he is». I could only reply: «Patience. Stay calm». I guess the famous saying «things in the palace go slowly» (the wheels of justice turn slow) came true. 

When you left your ratification, your parents and I were waiting for you in the cafeteria near the courthouse. You had waited a long time for something that lasted only a few minutes. Your ratification was clear: you kept your story straight in court about what was happening to you and who was the person you suspected. Despite the immense damage, you stood by your words, by what you had been suffering and denouncing for months. Whatever they say.

The rest of the morning we strolled through the streets of La Carolina. They had set up the stalls of the street market and you liked a lot of things. Your mother said: «That’s for the Three Wise Men Day». Everything seemed to be going well, as if leaving the court had lifted a huge weight off your shoulders. When we said goodbye, I even told you: «If you want to come to Jaén for Christmas. I’m not much of a party person, but if I have to end up in a fountain, I’ll end up in a fountain! 

The way you smiled as we said goodbye, with that smile that lit up the whole street, I thought it would be like that. We hugged goodbye, wishing each other Happy Holidays while I said to you: «Call me, you little bugger, we’re going on a spree!» Then you left and I returned home too after a short walk through the streets of La Carolina. 

A few days later, I passed you a picture of a nebula that I like very much, the nebula NGC 3576. It is often called the «Statue of Liberty Nebula», although I prefer to call it the «Let There Be Light Nebula». You said to me, «That’s cool!«. I wanted you to think that there is always light at the end of the road, that it is possible to move forward and that, one way or another, everything can be solved. 

Shortly after, on Christmas Eve, I sent you a Christmas greeting via WhatsApp. In all this time, I have kept our last conversation from that evening. You told me: «Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, see you soon. Thank you very much for everything». I replied: «I’ll always be there». At that moment I think I thought: «This is going to work out well». But I was wrong. 

It all happened on 28 December ( Fool’s Day in Spain). At about 15:30 I received a call from a local woman. She said: «Nieves has done it». I didn’t understand what she meant until she told me clearly. You couldn’t take it anymore. You had taken your own life. 

I didn’t know how to react, I went blank. We had said goodbye days before with that smile so full of light that I couldn’t understand how it had happened. While I was getting ready at full speed to arrive as soon as possible, your sister called me several times from your mother’s phone. When I was able to return the call, I heard your sister’s voice on the other end: «Luis…». I quickly answered: «I know, Mayte, I just heard. I’m on my way». 

I don’t know how I drove that endless hour on the road. I didn’t know what had happened, I didn’t understand how it could have happened. I only remember arriving and seeing the huge commotion at the door of your house. That’s when I realised what had happened. I had been late, I hadn’t been able to help you. I had failed you. 

When I got to the door, I phoned your sister to tell her I was at the door. I entered the doorway and met the Civil Guard officer who was guarding the entrance to the living room. At that moment the door opened and a man wearing a mask said: «Don’t let anyone else in». 

The agent stared at me for a moment, as if wondering who I was and what I was doing there. Instinctively, I told her: «Agent, my name is Luis Francisco Sánchez Cáceres and I am from the International Human Rights Foundation. I was assisting the girl and I am aware of what was happening. Please take my details for anything you need». But they never called me. Maybe they didn’t think it was necessary. 

It was there that I met your aunt Loles and your brother-in-law Pedro. Your aunt was devastated and your brother-in-law was struggling to keep his composture. A few minutes later the door opened, you were to be transferred to Jaén and the entrance had to be cleared. 

Many people had crowded into the street. I noticed a girl I had met a few days before at the Instituto de Enseñanza Secundaria (High School) San Juan de Dios, in Navas de San Juan itself. She had been a bit unruly in class and I had to ask her to change her seat. I went up to her and said: «Do you understand now what I explained to you the other day? Forgive me if I was a bit hard on you». She nodded and then we embraced. 

When you left, I didn’t hesitate. I called my superiors to explain what had happened and asked them to give me «carte blanche» so that I could help your family bring to justice the person who had hurt you so much. In return, I put all my charges at my disposal if I overstepped my authority at any time. I received authorisation. 

When I re-entered your house, I found your whole family devastated. It was impossible to hold back tears surrounded by so much pain. Your death could have been prevented but it was not in time. Many people who knew what was happening to you looked the other way. Many others, including those who called themselves «your friends», simply didn’t believe you and abandoned you. Those people who abandoned you to your fate, who said you had made it all up, came to see what had happened but were thrown out by your family as hypocrites. They are all accomplices in some way to what happened to you. Anyone who denies it is committing an act of pure cynicism. 

I did not doubt it. That day I made a promise to your whole family. I would stand by their side until the end, until there is a final judgement, hopefully a conviction. I did it on my knees, asking for forgiveness if I had come too late, if I had made a mistake. One year later, I reaffirm that promise and, wherever you are, I promise you too. I will not abandon them. 

You were a victim of bullying and cyberbullying. A crime whose cases are multiplying every year and which causes tremendous harm to those who suffer it and also to their families. A social scourge that is increasingly spreading among young people and adults. It can take a life and tear whole families apart at the hands of twisted and, why not say it, homicidal minds. What you suffered was an act of humiliation, an act of torture and a real mockery that went on for months. You were pushed to the limit and you couldn’t take it anymore. Society cannot look the other way as they did with you. Silence makes accomplices of those who do not act in the face of injustice. We will never be silent and no one will ever tell us to be silent. NEVER. 

Despite the pain and the weight of your absence, your family has continued to fight tirelessly. They have vindicated your name, honouring your memory, protecting your story and your truth in all the rallies in different places, on social media and in all the media interviews across the country so that what happened to you does not happen to anyone else. They do it out of LOVE for you while receiving that same LOVE from all your family, from your real friends, from those who will never abandon them or give them up. We will fill every corner with butterflies, those that always accompany your family and are the symbol of your memory. 

Justice will speak and those who have had something to do with what they did to you will undoubtedly pay for it. We will go all the way, until the person who did this to you faces the full weight of the law for their actions or until the people who could have prevented it, whoever they are, assume their share of responsibility. Let no one be in any doubt that they will. 

We will clear your name, we will keep your memory alive, we will cry out to heaven asking not for vengeance, but for JUSTICE. 

And we will do it in your name, always in your name.

JUSTICE FOR NIEVES!

🇪🇸ESPAÑOL🇲🇽

Ya ha pasado un año desde tu marcha. En todo este tiempo, y a pesar del inmenso dolor, tu familia no ha dejado de luchar para limpiar tu memoria y pedir Justicia. Sufriste un verdadero calvario a la vista de todo el mundo, pero nadie decía nada. Pediste ayuda llamando desesperadamente a la puerta de la Justicia pero, desgraciadamente, no pudiste aguantar más.

Recuerdo cuando te vi la primera vez. Llegué a Navas de San Juan un 15 de noviembre con la intención de vernos en una zona tranquila o en alguna cafetería. Pero todo estaba cerrado así que, al final, llegué hasta tu casa. Allí me recibió tu madre, Loli, y tu hermana, Mayte, que amamantaba a tu sobrino, el pequeño Marcos. A Juan, tu padre, le conocí también esa misma tarde. 

Nunca olvidaré la mirada y la sonrisa de agradecimiento de tu madre por haber ido hasta tu casa. Tras ofrecerme un café, me explicó, paso a paso, todo por lo que estabas pasando. Habíais hecho lo correcto, lo que hay que hacer siempre, denunciar ante las autoridades lo que estabas sufriendo desde hacía meses. 

Al poco llegaste tú. No sé si te causé buena impresión o no al verme allí con la documentación sobre la mesa pero, quizá de forma instintiva, te dije lo que siempre digo a todas las personas a las que asisto para intentar ayudarles: “Hola, soy Luis. No te asustes pero, ¿quieres un abrazo?”. Y me respondiste: “¡Vale!”. 

Tenías una sonrisa como la de tu madre, limpia y pura, aunque tus ojos reflejaban una profunda tristeza por todo lo que te estaban haciendo. Un tristeza que, la segunda vez que te vi, se dejó ver en forma de lágrimas en aquellos ojos tímidos de niña inocente que nunca había hecho daño a nadie, que no merecía en absoluto lo que le estaban haciendo porque nadie lo merece. Un tristeza que, al final, se adueñó de ti totalmente.

Revisé toda la documentación: las tres denuncias que habías interpuesto, las capturas de pantalla, el parte de lesiones de cuando tuviste que ser atendida por el ataque de ansiedad y todo lo relacionado con pesadilla que estabas pasando. Ya en la tercera denuncia, la que hizo que necesitaras asistencia médica, apuntabas el nombre de la persona que sospechabas que podía estar detrás de todo lo que estabas sufriendo. A todo ello se uniría una cuarta denuncia que interpondrías al día siguiente. Cuatro denuncias en total. Pero no hubo respuesta o, al menos, no la hubo a tiempo. 

No solo habían publicado tu teléfono en páginas de contactos, también habían puesto carteles por las calles del pueblo difamándote; enviaron correos electrónicos, tanto a empresas como al Ayuntamiento de tu localidad, en los que se hacían pasar por ti; y, finalmente, suplantaron tu identidad en una red social desde la que se dedicaban a amenazar, a insultar a otras personas y en la que llegaron a subir una foto anunciando el fallecimiento de tu madre. Solo una persona retorcida sería capaz de hacer todo aquello. Incluso, tú misma llegaste a escribir a esa cuenta falsa preguntando qué era lo que querían de ti. La respuesta fue: “Sí, sí. ☠️”. No hay nada más macabro. 

La persona (o personas) que estaba detrás de todo esto había decidido cruelmente hacerte daño desde el falso anonimato que la gente cree que hay en internet y en las redes sociales. Solo una mentalidad criminal podría orquestar todo aquello de forma tan concienzuda y mezquina. Y no solo eso, también consiguieron que tus “amistades” te dieran la espalda y que, incluso, las propias Fuerzas de Seguridad dudasen de ti. Pero, no, tú nunca mentiste. Tu historia era cierta, siempre fue cierta, porque siempre dijiste la verdad. Pero nadie más le dio importancia o, al menos, no la suficiente. 

Un día recibiste la citación del Juzgado. Te citaban el día 21 de diciembre para ratificarte en la tercera denuncia. De las otras dos denuncias que interpusiste nunca tuviste noticia. Sin embargo, parecía que, aunque fuera muy lentamente, todo empezaba a moverse. 

Te acompañaron tu madre y tu padre. Yo también me acerqué hasta La Carolina, el municipio en donde se encuentra el Juzgado que investiga todo, para estar contigo y que estuvieses más tranquila pero, por el protocolo anti-Covid19, nadie pudo entrar contigo para el acto de ratificación. Llevabas en una bolsa toda la documentación pero, al final, no hizo falta presentarla porque solo tenías que decir que lo que te estaba pasando, aquello que reflejaste en la tercera denuncia, era verdad porque tu versión siempre fue la misma y nunca cambió. Aquella mañana tuviste que esperar demasiado, hasta por WhatsApp me dijiste: “Todavía estoy esperando al Juez, que no saben ni dónde está”. Yo solo pude contestarte: “Paciencia. Quédate tranquila”. Supongo que se cumplió el famoso dicho de “las cosas de palacio van despacio”. 

A la salida de tu ratificación tus padres y yo estábamos esperándote en la cafetería cercana al Juzgado. Habías esperado mucho para algo que duró apenas unos pocos minutos. Tu ratificación fue clara: mantuviste tu versión ante el Juzgado acerca de lo que te estaba sucediendo y de quién era la persona de la cual sospechabas. A pesar del inmenso daño, te mantuviste firme en tus palabras, en lo que llevabas meses sufriendo y denunciando. Digan lo que digan. 

El resto de la mañana estuvimos paseando por las calles de La Carolina. Habían puesto los tenderetes del mercado ambulante y a ti te gustaban muchas cosas. Tu madre decía: “Eso para los Reyes Magos”. Todo parecía ir bien, como si la salida del Juzgado hubiese hecho que te quitaras un enorme peso de encima. Incluso, al despedirnos, te dije: “Si quieres vente a Jaén en Navidad. No soy mucho de ir fiesta, pero si tengo que acabar en una fuente, ¡acabo en una fuente!”. 

Por tu forma de sonreír al despedirnos, con esa sonrisa que iluminaba toda la calle, pensé que así sería. Nos despedimos con un abrazo, deseándonos Felices Fiestas mientras te decía: “¡Llámame, bichejo! ¡Que nos vamos de juerga!”. Entonces os marchasteis y yo regresé a casa también tras dar un pequeño paseo por las calles de La Carolina. 

Unos días más tarde, te pasé una foto de una nebulosa que me gusta mucho, la nebulosa NGC 3576. Suelen llamarla la “Nebulosa de la Estatua de la Libertad”, aunque yo prefiero llamarla la “Nebulosa de ‘Hágase la Luz’”. Me dijiste; “¡Qué chula!”. Quería que pensaras que siempre hay luz al final del camino, que es posible salir hacia adelante y que, de una forma u otra, todo puede llegar a solucionarse. 

Al poco, cuando llegó el Día de Nochebuena, te mandé una felicitación por Navidad a través de WhatsApp. En todo este tiempo, he seguido conservando nuestra última conversación de esa tarde. Me dijiste: “Feliz Navidad y Felices Fiestas, nos vemos pronto. Muchas gracias por todo de verdad”. Yo te contesté: “Ahí estaré siempre”. En ese momento creo que pensé: “Esto va a salir bien”. Pero me equivoqué. 

Todo pasó el Día de los Inocentes. Sobre las 15:30 recibí una llamada de una vecina de la localidad. Me dijo: “Nieves lo ha hecho”. No entendía lo que quería decir hasta que me lo dijo claramente. No pudiste soportarlo más. Te habías quitado la vida. 

No supe cómo reaccionar, me quedé en blanco. Nos habíamos despedido días antes con esa sonrisa tan llena de luz que no era capaz de entender cómo había pasado. Mientras me preparaba a toda velocidad para llegar cuanto antes, tu hermana me llamó varias veces desde el teléfono de tu madre. Cuando pude devolver la llamada, escuché a la otro lado la voz de tu hermana: “Luis…”. Rápidamente contesté: “Lo sé, Mayte, me acabo de enterar. Voy para allá”. 

No sé como conduje aquella hora interminable de camino. No sabía qué había pasado, no entendía cómo podía haber sucedido. Solo recuerdo llegar y ver el enorme revuelo en la puerta de tu casa. Ahí fui consciente de lo que había pasado. Había llegado tarde, no había sido capaz de ayudarte. Te había fallado. 

Al llegar a la puerta, llamé por teléfono a tu hermana para decirle que estaba en la puerta. Entré en el portal y me encontré con la agente de la Guardia Civil que custodiaba la entrada al salón. En ese momento se abrió la puerta y un hombre con mascarilla dijo: “Que no entre nadie más”. 

La agente se quedo mirándome fijamente unos instantes, como preguntándose quién era yo y qué hacía ahí. De forma instintiva le dije: “Agente, mi nombre es Luis Francisco Sánchez Cáceres y soy de la Fundación Internacional de Derechos Humanos. Estaba asistiendo a la chica y soy conocedor de lo que sucedía. Por favor, tome mis datos para cualquier cosa que necesiten”. Pero nunca me llamaron. Tal vez no lo consideraron necesario. 

Fue allí donde conocí a tu tía Loles y a tu cuñado Pedro. Tu tía estaba destrozada y tu cuñado intentaba mantener la entereza a duras penas. A los pocos minutos se abrió la puerta, debían trasladarte hasta Jaén y había que despejar la entrada. 

Mucha gente se había agolpado en la calle. Me fijé en una chica a la que había conocido días antes en el Instituto de Enseñanza Secundaria San Juan de Dios, en el mismo Navas de San Juan. Había sido un poco revoltosa en clase y tuve que pedirle que se cambiara de asiento. Me acerqué a ella y le dije: “¿Entiendes ahora lo que os expliqué el otro día? Perdóname si fui un poco duro contigo”. Ella asintió con la cabeza y, entonces, nos fundimos en un abrazo. 

Cuando te marchaste no lo dudé. Llamé a mis superiores para explicarles lo sucedido y pedirles que me dieran “carta blanca” para poder ayudar a tu familia a llevar ante la Justicia a quien te había hecho tanto daño. A cambio, puse todos mis cargos a disposición si me extralimitaba en algún momento. Recibí la autorización. 

Al entrar de nuevo en tu casa, me encontré a toda tu familia destrozada. Era imposible contener las lágrimas rodeado de tanto dolor. Tu muerte podía haberse evitado pero no se llegó a tiempo. Muchas personas que sabían lo que te pasaba miraron para otro lado. Otras muchas, entre ellas quienes se hacía llamar “tus amigos”, simplemente no te creyeron y te abandonaron. Aquellas personas que te abandonaron a tu suerte, que decían que te habías inventado todo, se acercaron a ver lo que había pasado pero fueron de expulsadas de allí por tu familia por hipócritas. Todas ellas son cómplices de alguna manera de lo que te pasó. Quien lo niegue está cometiendo un acto de puro cinismo. 

No lo dudé. Ese día hice un promesa ante toda tu familia. Estaría a su lado hasta el final, hasta que haya una sentencia firme que, ojalá, sea condenatoria. Lo hice de rodillas, pidiendo perdón por si había llegado demasiado tarde, por si había cometido algún error. Un año más tarde, me reafirmo en esa promesa y, estés donde estés, también te lo prometo a ti. No les abandonaré. 

Fuiste víctima del acoso y del ciberacoso. Un delito cuyos casos se multiplican cada año y que causa un tremendo daño a quien lo sufre y también a sus familias. Una lacra social que se extiende cada vez más entre jóvenes y adultos. Puede arrebatar una vida y destrozar a familias enteras a manos de mentes retorcidas y, ¿por qué no decirlo?, también homicidas. Lo que sufriste fue un acto de humillación, de tortura y un verdadero escarnio continuado en el tiempo durante meses. Te llevaron al límite y no pudiste más. La sociedad no puede mirar para otro lado como hicieron contigo. El silencio hace cómplices a quienes no actúan ante la injusticia. No nos callaremos nunca ni nadie nos mandará callar. JAMÁS. 

A pesar del dolor y del peso de tu ausencia, tu familia ha seguido luchando de forma incansable. Han reivindicado tu nombre, honrando tu memoria, protegiendo tu historia y tu verdad en todas las concentraciones por distintos lugares, en las redes sociales y en todas las entrevistas en medios de comunicación de todo el país para que lo que te sucedió a ti no le suceda a nadie más. Lo hacen por AMOR a ti mientras reciben ese mismo AMOR de toda tu familia, de tus amigos de verdad, de quienes nunca les abandonarán ni les darán de lado. Llenaremos cada rincón de mariposas, esas que acompañan siempre a tu familia y que son el símbolo de tu recuerdo. 

La Justicia hablará y quienes hayan tenido algo que ver con lo que te hicieron, sin duda, pagarán por ello. Llegaremos hasta el final, hasta que la persona que te haya hecho esto afronte todo el peso de la ley por su acciones o hasta que las personas que pudieran haberlo evitado, sean quienes sean, asuman su parte de responsabilidad. Que nadie tenga duda de que así será. 

Limpiaremos tu nombre, mantendremos vivo tu recuerdo, clamaremos al cielo pidiendo no venganza, sino JUSTICIA. 

Y lo haremos en tu nombre, siempre en tu nombre.

¡JUSTICIA PARA NIEVES!