Raison D'être

Numb

Before you read, I just want to make a very important note. Sorry, not sorry. I just want to say that suicide should NEVER be normalized, not even joking about it. Wanting to kill yourself is not a standard. If such thoughts occur in your head, please know that you are not alone, and please, please, please seek help. It is not normal to genuinely want to die or want to kill yourself, not when our brains are programmed for survival. Going against the brain's wiring is not healthy and one needs to seek treatment. I write about these issues, those being sexual assault and suicidal thoughts because they are what I resonate with most. That being, yes I have been sexually assaulted, and yes I have had suicidal thoughts. Luckily, I have healed, but it's not to say that those thoughts and memories won't stay with me for the rest of my life. I write because this is the only way I know how to cope, to truly deal with some of the darkest moments in my life. Whether it's seeking help or just talking to someone you're comfortable speaking these issues with, reaching out is better than the alternative.

So please if this applies to you or anyone you know, a simple reminder that you are not alone is enough. Please seek help and I pray that things will get better for you. My messages on this platform are always open. Whether it is just to talk, rant, or say hello, I'm here.

Much love 🧡,

the author :)

Anastasia

The next morning I'm up before the sun rises, the sky a periwinkle blue. I know the Italian man told me not to go back, but it's my daughter. I don't know what I'm looking for, and I highly doubt men like those would leave evidence of their whereabouts lying around. Waking up this morning, last night's memories replay in my mind. I want this all to be a bad dream, so I pinch myself. I actually pinch myself as hard as I can. Sadly, I'm awake.

Walking over to the location, I retrace the path the car took before it veered out of my vision. Nothing, not a single piece of evidence that these men even existed. I try to focus on if I heard any names last night, but none come to my head. I was too busy crying my eyes out, blood rushing to my head that I couldn't remember a single name. All I remember were the ugly tattoos on the men's throats, but how would that be useful? Frustrated, I yell aloud and kick around the rocks before walking back to the abandoned building. Looking at where I saw the men having a conversation, I walked over. Nothing. You would never know that my whole world was taken from me here. You would never know my angel was taken from me by the devils that lurk in this world. It would just look like an abandoned building left in its abandoned state.

Feeling as if it has been an hour, I walk back to work. I don't want to go, that's the last thing I want to do. I can't go to the police with nothing, no evidence that they exist. I can't fill out a missing report because of what might happen to David and Carla if they find out I am affiliated with them.

As I walk inside David greets me, but I guess my puffy red eyes give away that something is wrong."What's wrong?" Everything.

I break into sobs telling him everything between my gasps of breath. Once I'm finished, I look over at David with watery eyes. By the expression on his face, he is at a loss of words. He embraces me in a hug while rubbing my back in circles. I'm too defeated to hug him back.

"We'll find her, without the police," David reassures.

"How?"

"The man was right, you can't go to the police. We'll have to do it ourselves. What you dealt with was the Russian mafia, and you are very lucky to be alive. "

"Mafia?"

"Yes, the mafia's in the 80s used to make their existence known, especially here in the city. Now, they run more as shadow organizations, not letting the new generations know they even exist. If no one knows they exist, no one can catch them. I imagine since you heard Russian accents, they were the Russian mafia." With his brows furrowed and a hand on his chin, he was stuck in deep thought.