A game called rape
I can see him stare at me, in a way I don’t like. It makes me feel so weak and uncomfortable., like I’m the prey and he is the predator. And he shows me his wicked smile, stating that there is nowhere I could escape to.
So I complain, “I see the devil” I yell, “he resides with us” but no-one believes. They say he exists only in my head. But how could I prove to them that this is not an illusion., for I’ve scars on my skin that are still so raw and fresh and I’ve marks and bruises he leaves that never fades away.
And there he comes, walking towards me. I turn away. I continue to write like I didn’t see him, but I know he’s right behind. I can hear him breath. So I write: “He’s so caring and so good. So sweet and loving. He cares, he cares, he cares., for me” . He takes a glance at them, let’s out his wicked smile and leaves. My heart rates pace down. I breathe. Gasping air for my lungs.
But I know he’ll come back. He’ll always come back for his cravings. And I’ve seen his real side. He’s an animal who is thirsty for my blood, who wants to satisfy his hunger and I’m the flesh he favors. He’s waiting to tear my skin apart with his nails and touch me with his dirty hands. But I won’t let that happen. E.V.E.R This time I’m going to fight back stronger than I ever did before. I will fight for all the nightmares I woke up screaming., for all those nights I bled till my sheets soaked in tears., for all those flinches he gave me with his looks.
And once again, he comes. Walking towards me. He’s sees me writing.Stands behind me. I can hear me breathe. And I write: “He’s so evil and bad. He’s cruel and harmful. He’s cruel. He’s cruel. He’s cruel to me” . Stunned he glares at me and I don’t turn away. I stare at him; in such a way that he can’t stare back. My eyes filled with anger which could burn him alive.
He goes away. He’s afraid now. Of me, of my words and the courage I showed. He saw the fire which isn’t going to settle down.
And I will fight this battle, all alone, till I hear him plead and see him bleed. This war is going too dreadful but I can see myself winning. Wining against all odds and fear with my weapon called courage.
At the end, the war ends. The storm has passed. And I survived. I survived each one of my battle.
So I look at look at the sun, with flowers in my head. I whisper to the wind: “The devil is now dead”
