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WHY US?

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My mum and dad had gone to work. I had a brother but he lived in a hostel. So, I was all alone at home. 

I was watching television when the doorbell rang, so I went to  see who it was. It was a friend of my father and I had known him since I used to be a child, so I welcomed him because I  couldn’t think of a reason why I shouldn’t. 

I gave him a glass of water and told him that my mum and dad  had gone to work and might come back late. So, he could leave  if he wanted to. He stood up and instead of going, he came and  sat beside me on sofa. No sooner did I find figure his intentions  than, I told him to leave. He stood up and started coming closer  

to me. I warned him but he didn’t listen. So, I ran towards the  door but he held me. I tried to shout but he put his hand on my  mouth and another hand on my waist. I shouted, I screamed  but even I couldn’t hear my voice. I tried to push myself away  but he was too big and strong. He lifted me and took me to the  bedroom. He smashed me on the bed. As soon as he did that, I  tried to run away but he caught me again and slapped me twice  and threw on the bed again. I shouted, I cried for help but we  both knew no one was going to come. I saw him untie his belt  and lowering his pants. I couldn’t do anything. I was already 

feeling dizzy. He came on top of me and put him inside me.  Never in my life had I screamed so painfully. It was unbearable. 

He stopped after what felt like a lifetime. He started wearing  his clothes and he was smiling like he had done something  victorious, as if he would get a trophy for what he did.  

But I felt the blood on my legs and the pain that came along  with it. I could feel the horror that he injected in me. I knew  that any moment it would be my last breath. He brought his lips  closer to my ears and whispered, “See, I knew you were a good  girl. That wasn’t so hard, now was it?” He laughed and then  left, closing the door behind him.  

I was begging God to make it stop, to take all the pain once and  for all. Just make it stop. I couldn’t bear it longer; it was like  someone had unleased hell on me. I couldn’t move, I was  slowly slipping away and I knew that my time had come.  

But suddenly I heard the doorbell and I knew that my mother  had come. She was there, but only few hours late. I heard her  yelling my name and then she saw me. She saw me lying in the  bed covered in blood and half naked. She lost it. But somehow,  she called an ambulance and I could feel her crying, cursing  herself for leaving me alone. I felt like I was being stretched in  the oblivion whence no one has ever returned. 

I could see a place where everything was at peace, where  nothing had happened to me. But I opened my eyes and saw  my mum and dad sitting beside me on the stool and tears in 

their eyes. It reminded me that everything was real. I slowly  opened my eyes and whispered, “Mumma”. She and my father  sighed in relief. She looked at me simultaneously with  happiness and sadness in her eyes.  

“Mumma, it was he, the friend of dad.” She knew exactly who I  was talking about. She nodded with sadness and said, “It is  alright, Beta. Everything is fine.” 

“No, you don’t understand. It was he who did this.” I tried to  move but there were needles and tubes all over my body. I  tried to remove it but my father stopped me. He called for  nurse. 

“No, just listen to me. Just hear me please.” I cried, I looked at  my mum, I wanted her to listen to me and tell that I would  wake any second now from this nightmare. But a doctor came  to me and gave me an injection and I fell asleep. 

After some time, I again opened my eyes and tried to tell them  what had happened and again I shouted and again a doctor  came with a syringe. I fought it but again like before, it was  worthless.  

Next time, I just opened my eyes and didn’t say anything  because no one would listen to me. NO ONE.  

After a few days, I came home and the horror, those images  flooded in my mind. But I couldn’t do anything. My mom took  me to different room and made me sit on the bed. She sat  beside me and whispered, “Beta, what happened that day was 

not your fault. Just try to forget it. Once you do, everything  would be like it was before. And please forgive him for what he  did.” She said this and walked out of the room. I was too numb  to argue anything. But she was my mother, how could she say  that? 

Had he only pierced my vagina, I would have forgiven him but  he pierced my soul, he pierced my whole body, he pierced my  dreams, he pierced everything that lay ahead of me, he pierced  me from myself. How could I ever forgive him? How could I  have not wished the worst miserable death that anyone had ever got?  

But the pain, it was too much for me to handle. I tried; I just  didn’t have the strength to bear it. Those few hours were being  haunted in my mind. I would have given anything to stop it.  

So, at midnight, when my mum and dad were sleeping, I slipped  into the kitchen and I took a knife. I came to the room and I did  it. I took the knife and slit my wrist. Truth be told, it wasn’t as  painful as what it was on THAT day. I could see my body lying  there in my room. I could see everything from there.  

I also saw my mum coming to the room and seeing the lifeless  body of mine on the floor. She saw the body that had been  dead for days, the only difference was that she had seen the  proof. She cried, she howled. My dad had lost it too. 

And after I was gone, they decided to fight for my justice and  filed a complaint in the court. My parents fought for me. They 

did. The whole country fought for me, fought for every girl,  every woman who had gone through what I went through. But  on the day when they were going to punish him, the judge  ordered that there were not enough proofs and added that it  was natural need of males that might arise, and they shouldn’t  be punished for it. 

I mean, I was 12 when this happened. I was at home and not at  late night clubs. I was not with a stranger. And I was wearing  full sleeve T-shirt and pants because I was afraid that they  might call me slut if I would wear shorts and tank tops. 

But my mum couldn’t take it. She came home, took the same  knife with which I escaped hell and went straight to HIS home. 

He opened the door and she didn’t waste another second in  punishing. She gave me justice. She did what the judge should  have done and guess what, she was then punished for the  “crime” she did.  

Why is it like this? Why are we always safe under your shelter  but at constant risk when not there? And sometimes not even  safe under your shelter. Why? 

Not only I, but crores of women, girls, children would be watching this and asking you “WHY US?” 

Why us? We were tiny little creatures who wanted to live a  normal life, a life where we could live as a bird in the sky. But  little did we know that we were just those birds who were 

always promised to live freely but at the end died in the cage  from suffocation. 

So, I stand here asking you on behalf of every single female, “WHY US?!”

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