I see you, you see me, hellos are exchanged.
You call me pretty. You ask me on a date. I tell him no.
He sees me again, drags me in a deserted alley. I say no. I scream no. I shout, but no one listens. His friends arrive, I resist, I ask them to leave me, but they left unconscious.
I wake up naked, in a deserted alley, with my clothes all tattered. I cry, I call for help, no one does. I stand up, walk towards my home, facing the murmurs of the neighbours.
I lay unconscious in my shower, from all the crying.
I force my legs to move out of the house, only to feel disgusted by the male species there.
I wake up to see my friend moving out for she can’t stay with a **** survivor.
I force myself again to step out of the house. I cross the street, only to be haunted by their faces, only to feel their voices echo in my ears.
I visit the police station. The investigation began. I showed them the bruises. But the police officer’s ***** looks made me return back.
I start with my therapy sessions.
I had a panic attack again, this evening, when a guy asked me out.
I saw their faces again. In that alley. Under my leg. In my lips.
I saved a girl today from being *****.
I have started having nightmares, again.
Today was my last therapy session.
I plan to speak up.
I visited the police station.
They asked me why did I take so long? I had no answer.
They came for questioning again. I narrated them the whole ordeal.
They started investigating. I still get nightmares.
They closed the case, for there was no evidence.
I narrated it to my family members, no one believed me.
I hung myself.