Prologue

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"You've become so damaged that when someone tries to give you the love you deserve, you don't know how to respond"

Flashback

No! Please! Stop!

"Just one last time".

No! I don't want to! Please don't do this.

But my words were drowned when his lips attacked mine. My skirt was already up. My hands were restrained above my head with his as he pushed himself into me. Rocking in and out of me as I shouted at him to stop. I will not break. I will not break. I will not break. I chanted in my head. Someone knock on the door. Someone call. Someone do something. I kept trying to get him off me. Somehow, I managed to get the upper hand and push him off and out of me.

Get out! Get out now! Leave! I never want to see you again! "Please, I love you." Just go. Just go...suddenly everything went silent except for my sobs. I broke down. Locking myself in the bathroom, I cried. I cried for the girl who couldn't save herself. For the girl who couldn't stop him. For the girl who was now lifeless. For the girl whose colourful world became black. Black like an abyss. And empty. For me.

I began clawing and scratching at myself. Without feeling, like a robot, I motionlessly ran a bath. Trying to wash away the dirt. Trying to wash away the memories of how he used my body and shattered my soul. Trying to wash away his scent. The dirt that was now crawling all over me; every touch and kiss, aggressive and filthy. Filthy like the man who did this to me. Who stained me with his filth. I needed to feel clean again. So I kept on washing my body over and over again until it was raw. Red and raw like an aggravated open wound. Why me? Why me?

Even after washing my body raw, there was nothing I could do to wash away the stain on my soul. My parents got back home and I pretended that everything was okay. Giving them fake smiles and as quick as lightning, I bid them goodnight. Not saying anything to them about what just happened to me. Why? Ashamed and scared of their reaction, of the consequences of telling them, I went to bed wordlessly and cried my heart out to the pillows and bed that couldn't comfort me. Salty water making rivulets on my cheeks and wetting my pillows as it whispered the secret the walls trapped when I screamed at him to stop. But he didn't. He didn't stop. And I just kept asking myself why me? Why me? Why me?


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⏰ Last updated: Oct 13, 2015 ⏰

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