He Didn't Rape Me, He Shattered My Soul

Anonymous Anonymous in Your Story on 14 June, 2017

Another day has passed, another day with a train of thoughts, entangled in sorrows, drenched in guilt, the guilt of not being pure, with a bright little ray of laughter and with some significant one. But a year ago, every day, every night used to be different.

Those days used to be full of different emotions. Emotions that now don't have a trace around the outline of my face.

Pain was just a mere word for me, sadness was an untouched emotion and tears had joy filled in them. Friends, family, love, I had everything a happy-go-lucky girl could ever dream of. I had a big circle of people around me. Protectors, as they used to call themselves for walking alone in this world, was like walking on a bridge, one slip and its enough to imbalance your everything.


Everything for me had just some people who cared for me like a tender flower. My family, those who always used to be proud of me are now scared because of me, and friends, those who used to cancel their hangouts because I ditched them, now they don't consider me as someone who should be ditched.

My love, that person, for whom I was his girl, his world, now has a new world with a faint haunting memory of our time, the time he used to call unforgettable. That cafe that I visited every day to get my favorite cup of latte now is a lane that makes me shiver. Tears keep rolling down, trying to let me escape the grief for the past one year.

Smile? It already left my face when that night arrived, when my protector changed everything for both of us. Just like the sky that looks dull during a downpour, my whole life is like that sky. I cry to relieve my pain, but still trying to keep others happy because of that pain.

The first time my friend touched me was when I was low when I was shattered. Giving me a shoulder to cry on, and I let him touch me for he was my friend right? The second time when he touched me was when we were clicking photos, the piece of memory that I thought I'd preserve for the rest of my life. 


Third, when someone tried to hold me, thinking that I'm totally passed out. He then tried to save me from the "cruel eyes", an evil disguised with a smile, only to make me realize that he was the one from whom I should have been saved. That night I felt something for the first time.

Forced, impure, not because of the one who tried to hold me or who called me names, but because of him who I thought was my well-wisher, a part of my family, a part of my life.

But that one night indeed changed everything for me. Did he rape me? No, he shattered me, made my body turn into a rotten piece of flesh, made my soul just a dementor, who roams around the walls of the room, sobbing and crying, all at once, asking for someone who has the courage to hold her hand again.

But now it will take another forever to happen, for now, all my dear ones have are my memories. I wonder what was my fault?

And all I have now is a restless soul trying to find peace.
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