SHOCKING SUBTITLE: We all felt that pit in our stomachs. That cursed vibration on our phones just a few hours ago. The screen lit up with words of terror, an incomplete sentence that left us on the edge of our seats. 23 dead? Where? How? Why? That “See more” was the gateway to hell. And here, at your trusted source, we broke the lock to bring you the real deal, the unfiltered truth, the bloody news that mainstream TV channels don’t dare to tell in full because it would taint family viewing hours. Get ready, buddy, because this is denser than traffic on a rainy payday Friday!
What a mess, you gossipy bunch, and today, sadly, with your heart turned into crackling!
If you just felt like your coffee was getting stuck in your throat and a heavier vibe than carrying El Pípila uphill washed over you when you saw that notification, you weren’t alone. It was the stifled cry of an entire country that’s fed up with counting dead bodies on the roads.
That damned “…See more.” That devilish tool that keeps us on the edge of our seats. Social media exploded in seconds. Theories flew back and forth. But yours truly, El Tundemáquinas Ramírez, who never shies away from a fight and goes right into the thick of things, plunged into the heart of the chaos. And what I saw, my friends, kept me up at night for the rest of the month.
THE REVELATION: THE “SEE MORE” SECTION HID A SLAUGHTERHOUSE ON WHEELS
Hold on tight because reality surpasses any horror movie. It wasn’t an “ordinary” crash. It was the final journey of bus number 666 (what an irony!) from the “Transportes Rápidos del Sur” line. A bus that left full of dreams, hardworking people, families going to visit their relatives, and ended up as a twisted metal coffin at the bottom of a 50-meter ravine.
The official number, the one that breaks our hearts, is this: 23 DEAD . Twenty-three lives cut short. And more than 30 injured, fighting for their lives in hospitals that are already overwhelmed.
THE CHRONICLE OF HELL: DAWN OF TERROR
It all happened at the worst possible time, around 3:30 AM. The bus was speeding down that treacherous mountain range where the curves seem designed by a drunken engineer. The fog was thick; you couldn’t see a thing.
According to the few survivors who were able to stammer something between shock and pain, the driver — a certain “El Gato”, known for speeding and for taking drugs to endure the double shift demanded by the slave-working bosses — had been struggling with the steering wheel for miles.
“It was going so fast, boss! We felt like the tires were leaving the ground on every curve!” Doña Rosa, a survivor who miraculously flew out of a window and landed in some bushes, told us. She lost her sister in the crash.
Upon reaching the infamous “Devil’s Curve,” fate took its toll. A momentary lapse of attention, a failure of the well-worn brakes, or simply excessive speed… the point is, the bus didn’t turn. It continued straight into the abyss.
THE IMPACT: THE SOUND OF THE END OF THE WORLD
Locals say it sounded like a bomb went off. BOOM! CRASH! WHAM!
The bus flipped over in midair as it plummeted into the abyss. Inside, imagine the horrific scene: screams, luggage flying through the air, people bouncing around like rag dolls. When it hit the bottom, the roof of the bus collapsed almost to the level of the seats. It became a deathly accordion.
The silence that followed was sepulchral, broken only seconds later by the groans of the wounded, the crying of children and the hiss of broken engines.
THE UNCAPED HEROES ARRIVE AT THE SLAUGHTERHOUSE
When the Red Cross paramedics, firefighters, and Civil Protection arrived, the scene turned the stomachs of even the most hardened. They had to rappel down into the ravine. The smell was a nauseating mixture of blood, oil, wet earth, and recent death.
They used the “jaws of life” to cut through the metal and try to free the trapped victims. They worked for hours in the rain, with flashlights, amidst mud and despair. They pulled out one body… and then another… and another. The death toll rose and hope dwindled.
The morgue couldn’t keep up with the number of vehicles. They had to convert a nearby gym into a makeshift morgue. A heartbreaking scene, my friends!
THE STORIES BEHIND THE NUMBER: THEY AREN’T JUST NUMBERS, THEY WERE OUR PEOPLE
This is where things take a turn for the worse, and where the sensationalist news becomes a human tragedy. Because those 23 are not just numbers for a government statistic.
There lay Don Pedro, an elderly man carrying a box of mangoes from his orchard to his grandchildren in the capital. The mangoes were scattered among the rubble, stained red. There lay Lupita, a nursing student returning home from her clinical rotations, her white uniform now stained with tragedy. There lay entire families who traveled together to save a few pesos.
Don’t mess with me! It’s always the people who die.
THE RUMORS: WHO IS TO BLAME?
Now the usual circus begins. The bus company has already sent its vulture lawyers to say they “deeply regret” the situation and that the insurance will cover it (yeah, right). The authorities say they will “investigate to the fullest extent” (the old reliable excuse to sweep it under the rug).
But the people know the truth. This was the fault of the greed of the owners who don’t maintain their clunkers, the exploitation of the drivers who sleep on the road, and the government that has those roads in terrible condition, full of potholes and without signs.
It was a crime, not an accident!
THE BLOODY MORAL: MEXICO MOURNS AGAIN
That headline, “Tragic accident leaves 23 dead…”, isn’t just gossip to sell newspapers. It’s another scar on the face of this battered country.
Today, 23 families will not receive their loved ones. Today, there are 23 empty chairs at the tables of Mexico.
May the victims of the “Devil’s Curve” rest in peace. And we, those of us who remain, will continue to struggle with the fear of getting on a bus, crossing ourselves so we don’t become the next tragic news story someone reads on their phone while drinking coffee.