June 3rd • 4

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- My Dignity -

Saturday

June 3rd, 1995

Dear Diary,

My taxi driver was constantly staring me through the rear view mirror. I felt uncomfortable. He shrugged his eye as I covered my clavicles with my chunni. Soon the anxiety made me lose alertness,  I fell asleep.

I woke up in the dark sky with a feeling of someone touching me near my chest. I opened my eyes, the taxi driver was touching me, I screamed, I agitated. I tried to force my way out but he grabbed me, I shouted, he laughed, his crude touch tainted me. I threw my bag at him, he swept back and I ran.

I ran for my dignity, my life depended upon it. Soon I found myself in a familiar place and it was crowded. My bag had my admit card and my ticket. I knew that now I would never be able to give the exam. I felt vibrations in the back-pocket of my jeans. I picked up the phone out of habit. Said, "Hello". My father called me back home, his voice was full of fear and tension. I hurriedly took the bus home. What he told me, made me lose the purpose of living. My-my...

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