It Is Not The End

Run. It is the first instinct I have when I hear the deep voices echoing behind me. My cold feet carry me quickly away. I need to find help. Looking behind, I run into someone in front of me. I stumble back and look up at him. His eyes are black in the night. He reeks of sweat. He grabs tightly onto my shoulders. I scream. The voices come closer. I bend my head and bite him on his wrist. He shouts in pain and let's go of me. I take the chance to run. I weave in and out of alley ways. The voices keep coming closer no matter how fast I am going. The heavy footsteps echo in the humid night. I try to run on the balls of my feet to be quieter. I try to quiet my panting. It is not enough. In front of me, men from the group were there waiting for me at the end of an alleyway. I turn around to get away but the rest of the group is behind me. This cannot be happening to me. My breathing quickens as they advance. My head whips around to find a different direction out, be up or down, but there is none; I am trapped. The leader of the men grabs me. I can smell the cigarette smoke on him. I cry and scream for help. He strikes me across my face, splitting my lip. I whimper on the ground, unable to look up in fear. My face aches from the hit. I can taste blood in my mouth. He grabs me again, lifting me up and pushes me against the wall. I can feel the rough brick wall against my back. I try to fight but he has my hands above my head in one hand and the rest of his body is pressed against me to hold me down; I can do nothing. I start to sob, begging for him not to hurt me. He just smirks and with his free hand signals some of the other men over. Each man grabs an arm or leg, bring me to the ground. A shiver of fear strikes me. I know what is coming. The realization of helplessness over takes my body. I cry for my mother, there is nothing that can save me. I feel my clothes being pushed up. I scream in despair as the men take advantage. One after another rapes me, I shut down. After they are done, I feel empty, helpless, and not wanting to live. I thought I could have escaped but that is not my fate. They carry my body back to the house; where my owner is waiting. Then the torture begins.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"AHHHHHHHH" I wake up screaming.

I try to catch my breath. The tears streaming down my face. Breathing heavily and sobbing. I hear heavy footstep outside in the hall. I become scared. I tumble out of my bed onto the floor with a thud and crawl under the bed. I cannot think straight. The fear has consumed all my thoughts.

"Lola?" a concern, deep voice calls as the door opens. The lights turn on.

I cannot keep in my sobbing. I cover my mouth to soften the noise. The footsteps come

over to my bed and stop. I see feet and then knees. A face comes into my sight from under the bed. I scream and scramble out to the other side. I run to the door but I am too slow. The man grabs me from behind. I scream and fight against him. He turns me around in his arms. I pound against his chest and try to kick his legs. He holds me close in a hug against his chest.

"Shhh," he whispers in my ear.

He starts to sing softly in my ear to calm me down. My senses are coming back. My nose fills with the scent of the forest. I feel the comforting hug and the soft clothes against my skin. I know the words to the song that he is singing. I see a familiar design of a shield on the man's shirt. I realize what had just happened is only a dream and this man that is holding me is my father. I lean in and cry on his chest. He keeps singing.

I finally calm down. He pulls back and has a small smile on his lips. He takes me up into his arms like when I was a child and carries me down the stairs. He gently sets me down onto a soft cushioned chair by the island in the kitchen. I place my hands on the cold granite island to ground myself and remind myself that this is real life. He makes me a cup of calming lavender tea. After he gives me my cup, he starts to make coffee for himself. The smell of coffee and lavender fill the air. It is calming. With a cup of coffee, he sits quietly next to me as I sip the tea. He waits for me to tell what happened this time. He always looks tired because he gets up with my nightmares.